All Through the Night
by Gilari
Summary: Buffy isn't ready for motherhood, and motherhood is DEFINITELY not ready for Buffy. But when Angel's son needs protecting, she doesn't have much of a choice.
1. Chapter 1

_Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee,  
All through the night;  
Guardian angels God will send thee,  
All through the night;  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,  
I my loving vigil keeping,  
All through the night._

- _Sir Harold Boulton, 1884 _

* * *

Wesley spared a moment from the dark road ahead of him to glance at the back seat of his car. Connor, snuggled safe in his car seat, was still fast asleep. He'd been sleeping on and off since they left LA. Like most babies, Connor found the motion of the car soothing, and was unusually quiet. Wesley had been afraid that he would fuss.

They had been driving all night. Since picking up Connor from the Hyperion on the pretense of having him stay overnight, Wesley hadn't stopped driving except for gas. He should have been exhausted, but coffee and adrenaline were coursing through his veins, keeping him alert.

_The father will kill the son. _

_The father will kill the son. _

The words repeated themselves in an endless refrain as he drove. Wesley knew with absolute certainty that he couldn't let that happen. Not to Angel, who he had come to regard as a dear friend. And not to sweet, innocent Connor, who he had come to love as a son himself. That prophesy was not coming true, not if Wesley had to take Connor to the ends of the Earth to make sure it didn't. But he wasn't going to drive that far. There was one way out of this, and Wesley was taking it.

As the first streaks of dawn began to lighten the sky, the car sped past a slightly dusty and bent sign that read _Welcome to Sunnydale!_

Wesley turned off his GPS. He knew the way from here.

* * *

Buffy couldn't sleep, but that was nothing new. She hardly ever slept nowadays. She stared up at the ceiling, wishing that she could slip back into the oblivion that sleep offered. At least then she wouldn't feel the emptiness inside of her, curling around her like a black shadow.

With a groan, Buffy pushed the covers back. There was no use just lying there, staring at the walls. She might as well get up. Without bothering to get dressed, Buffy made her way downstairs, intent on hot chocolate or tea or something else soothing. The house was quiet as she walked through it to the kitchen, the inhabitants still asleep. Through the window, she could see the dawn lightening the sky. Good, no beasties about.

A rough pounding on the door made Buffy jump. Ok, famous last words. She should have known better, she thought sourly to herself. Who would be knocking at this hour?

Buffy jerked the door open, and then blinked in surprise.

"Wesley?"

Wesley looked the worse for wear. His five o'clock shadow was more like a three-in-the-morning shadow, his clothes were rumpled, and he had dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes. But the most surprising thing was the baby he had propped on his shoulder.

"Buffy," he said, his accent not sounding quite as polished as usual in his gruffly weary voice. "May I come in?"

Buffy silently moved aside, allowing Wesley to walk in.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" he said, glancing down at her pajamas.

"No," said Buffy, shutting the door behind them. "I was already awake. What's happened, Wes? You look terrible."

Wesley have her a weak smile.

"That's not surprising. I've been driving all night. Buffy, I need your help."

"What else is new?" Buffy sighed. "Do you want something to eat?"

Wesley hesitated, then nodded.

"I don't think I've had anything but coffee since yesterday afternoon," he said wearily.

He followed Buffy into the kitchen, sitting down on a stool at the breakfast bar and propping the baby up on his lap. He gratefully accepted the mug of tea that Buffy handed him.

"All we've got is cereal right now."

Wesley nodded.

"That's fine."

"The world's not ending, is it?" Buffy asked offhandedly over her shoulder as she got out cereal and milk.

Wesley poured himself a bowl and started wolfing it down.

"I don't know," he replied between bites. "Not if I can prevent it." His voice was so bleak that Buffy whirled around to face him.

"I'm guessing it has something to do with that little guy there."

Wesley took another heaping spoonful of cereal.

"You would guess right. His name is Connor, and Buffy… he's Angel's son."

Buffy was frozen to the spot, her brain grinding to a halt.

"That's not funny," she whispered.

"I know it's not," Wesley replied wearily. "It's not a joke."

"Is Angel…" Buffy asked, afraid of the answer.

"No," said Wesley quickly. "No, Angel's still a vampire."

"Oh," said Buffy, wishing those words didn't hurt her quite so much. For one glorious second, she had allowed herself to hope.

"We're not sure how, or why," Wesley continued, "But Connor is the child of two vampires, Angel and Darla."

"Darla?" Buffy asked. That name sounded familiar.

"Darla was Angelus's sire," said Wesley, finishing off the last of his cereal, and devouring the toast that Buffy had just made. "Wolfram and Hart brought her back to live to distract Angel from their plans. She gave her life so Connor could live."

Wesley held Connor close to him, leaning down to kiss the baby's head.

Buffy was in shock.

"But vampires… they can't… can they?"

"He's a miracle," Wesley said. Finishing the last bite of his cereal, the former watcher cradled the baby in his arms.

"Why are you here?" Buffy asked bluntly. "Shouldn't he," she jerked her head towards Connor. "Be with his father?"

"_The father will kill the son_," Wesley whispered, a haunted look in his eyes.

"What?" Buffy asked. His voice was so low that she hadn't caught his words, only the anguish in his eyes.

"There's a prophesy," Wesley said, louder. "Connor's unique, special. And to say Angel has a lot of enemies would be an understatement. They're all after him, and they all want to kill him."

"So you thought you'd run away with him?" Buffy asked.

Wesley's eyes were intense as he spoke.

"We have to hide him, Buffy. Actually, that's something I was hoping you could help me with. I need to leave him with someone I can trust, someone who will keep him safe. And I have to go back to LA, to help Angel fight." Wesley's face was pleading.

Buffy backed away from the breakfast bar.

"Oh no. no, no, no. No way. Not a chance. Wesley, no!"

"There's no one else I trust to keep him safe," Wesley said. "This is the only way I can think of. Buffy, please."

Buffy backed up until her back hit the sink.

"I have enough to handle, Wes! I'm barely making ends meet, Dawn in having trouble at school, Willow's a mess, Xander and Anya's wedding is only a few days away. I can't handle a baby, too! No way, no how."

Wes's face fell. The bleak despair in it scared Buffy.

"Then I can't protect him," he said.

Even though she was panicking, Buffy recognized the desperation in her former watcher's face. She had seen it in her own eyes in the mirror every morning. Here was a man who was at the end of his tether.

"Can I hold him?" she asked.

Wesley nodded, transferring Connor to Buffy's waiting arms. Buffy looked down at the small life she held, and something moved within her, a stirring of the embers of a heart she had thought was long-cold.

"I haven't held a baby since Dawn was born," she said, looking down at him. "He's so… tiny."

"He's three months old," Wesley supplied.

"And he's human? Or is he vampire-y?"

"Fully human," Wesley assured her. "Heart that beats, loves the sunshine, eats… well, baby formula. But someday he'll eat real food. He's a totally healthy, human three month old baby."

Buffy's eyes hadn't left the child. He opened large, stormy gray eyes and blinked at her. His eyes were intelligent, regarding her with curiosity.

"There's one more thing, Buffy," Wesley said.

Buffy tore her eyes away from Connor.

"Yeah?"

"Under no circumstances can Angel be told he's here."

"Why?" Buffy asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Because," said Wesley, "If Angel knows, those after Connor could rip it from his mind. We agreed that only I would know where I was bringing Connor, for those reasons."

Something flickered in Wesley's eyes that Buffy couldn't name. He wasn't telling her the whole truth.

"Wes, I need to know the truth."

The tortured look was back in Wesley's eyes.

"Please, Buffy. There are things I can't tell you. You have to trust me."

Her gaze returned to Connor. He looked exactly like Angel in miniature.

"Angel's son," she murmured, a tiny smile on her face. "He looks just like him. Except for the not broody part. He looks like Angel asleep." She amended.

Wesley didn't comment on that.

"I have to keep him safe," he repeated. There was conviction in his voice, and utter devotion. He loved this kid.

In a split second of clarity, Buffy knew what she had to do. She had always made the most important decisions of her life in a split second – when to lunge at the vampire, when to duck; the decision to kiss Angel; the decision to jump off the bridge in Dawn's stead. This was no different.

She took a deep breath.

"Ok," she said. "What do I have to do?"


	2. Chapter 2

Willow woke to the strangest sound. At first, she thought she was still dreaming, because why would that sound be in the house? But as she became more coherent, the fog of sleep lifting from her mind, there was no denying the sound. There was a baby in the house.

Confused, Willow trailed downstairs.

"Buffy?"

"In the living room," came Buffy's voice.

Willow rounded the corner, and froze. Buffy was sitting on the couch, cradling a baby in her arms. She was feeding the little one from a bottle, which he was greedily drinking.

"Buffy, what?" Willow breathed, utterly confused.

Buffy have her a thin smile.

"It's almost too bizarre for words, Wil," she admitted.

"Who's baby is that?" Willow asked, coming forward to tentatively sit on the edge of the couch. "Cuz the last time I checked, which was, you know, yesterday, you weren't pregnant. I mean, were you?"

Buffy smiled.

"No, I wasn't pregnant yesterday. He's not my baby."

"That's good," Willow babbled. "Really good. Cuz for a minute there you scared me. I thought – demon pregnancy! I mean, who hasn't gone through one of those? But then the kid would be demon spawn, and that's a world of bad and…"

"Willow, breathe," Buffy instructed.

Willow stopped her gush of words, and took a deep breath.

"Ok. So tell me."

Now it was Buffy's turn to breathe deeply.

"It's Angel's son," she said.

Willow gasped. Despite all the scenarios that had flashed through her head, she hadn't been prepared for this one.

"But… Angel… he's a…"

"I know," said Buffy. "Wesley was here about sunrise. He left a few minutes ago. He says the little guy's in danger. We have to keep him safe."

Connor stopped feeding, his eyes drooping. He was asleep within seconds. Buffy put the bottle on the end table beside her.

"Buffy, a baby…" Willow said.

"I know," said Buffy softly. "A lot of responsibility, and we're already swamped. But he's Angel's. How can I not help?"

"How long is he staying here?" Willow asked.

Buffy shrugged.

"I don't know. Indefinitely. Wesley said there's some pretty nasty mojo out there after the kid, and we were the only people he knew with enough fire power to keep him safe."

Willow looked the child over for the first time.

"He _is_ awfully adorable," she admitted. "What's his name?"

"Connor."

"He's even got an adorable name!" Willow exclaimed. "Can I hold him?"

Buffy passed Connor to her. Willow cradled him in her arms.

"He's so little! Look at his little fingers! He's just the sweetest thing!" Willow gushed. Then, her face turned serious as she looked up at Buffy. "Buffy, we can't keep him. You know that."

"Wesley said it was the only way," Buffy said, gently stroking Connor's head. "And it's only for a little while. Just until LA is safe for him."

* * *

Xander stared with open shock at the baby, who was currently kicking his tiny arms and legs about as he lay on a blanket on the table at the Magic Shop.

"Buff… you can't be serious!" he said. "You can't just pick him up like a lost puppy! 'Mommy I found him in the park, can I keep him?'"

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I know that Xander, but…"

"But Deadboy dropped him in your lap, so it's all ok?"

Buffy felt her anger rising.

"Can you please see past your dislike of Angel for, like, a second? This isn't about him. "

"No," Xander cut her off. "I think it's very much about him! It always is."

Buffy felt the anger simmer inside her, but tamped it down as best she could.

"I'm keeping him. That's final."

Beside Xander, Anya pouted.

"I wanted to be the first to have cute babies," she complained.

Xander shot her a look equal parts dread and panic.

"Yeah, why do _we_ have to keep him anyways?" Dawn complained. "Couldn't Angel find someone else to look after him? Why does it have to be us?" she glared down at Connor jealously. To say she had _not_ been happy to find a baby in the house when she woke up that morning was an understatement. "He's only going to be a total pain."

"Boy wouldn't _that_ be a change in the house," Buffy muttered.

Dawn glared at her.

Buffy was starting to regret her decision to wait until after Dawn got out of school so that she could tell everyone at once. Good thing she had had the day off from the Doublemeat Palace today. Most of the day had been spent looking after Connor, who despite being completely adorable, was a lot of work. She felt exhausted already. But that hadn't wavered her resolve.

"Please, guys," she said wearily. "Wesley said Connor was in danger in LA. Lots of cults after him because he's some mystical prophesied kid. Xander's right, he's not some lost puppy. We can't take him back to the pound when he's inconvenient to our lives. He's a helpless baby, and he needs us."

The room was silent for a long moment as everybody contemplated Buffy's words.

"Buffy's right," said Anya, surprising everybody. "I may not personally like Angel, and a child is a huge drain on resources, but we can't leave him all alone. He's all soft and pink and helpless."

Xander looked contemplatively down at Connor.

"How are you going to look after him, Buff? You're barely keeping it together as it is, and babies are really expensive. And what about your job?"

"Well, Wesley gave me some money…" Buffy admitted.

"How much?" asked Anya. "I'm good with money."

"About ten thousand dollars," Buffy said. "It's all getting used on Connor, for as long as it lasts, and I'm keeping my job at the Doublemeat Palace."

"What about babysitting while you're at work?"

"We can help with that!" Willow chipped in. "I don't mind working around my class schedule."

"I can keep him at the Magic Box the times you're in class," Anya offered. "He's a cute little thing. Besides, it'll be good practice for when we have children, Xander."

Xander was wearing that panicked expression again.

Buffy smiled tightly at her friends.

"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. Just two rules though. One: Angel can't ever know about this. It has to stay out of his head. Two: Connor must be in sight of one of us at all times. He can never be out of sight. Wes was pretty clear on those, to the point of being manic."

"Never let him leave our sight?" Dawn asked. "Why?"

"Crazy cults after him," Buffy answered. "In sight at all times."

Buffy's strength seemed to go out of her then, because she sagged into a chair, putting her head in her hands.

"How am I going to do this?" she asked.

"It doesn't seem fair," Dawn said, putting a hand on her sister's shoulder. "You didn't even do something irresponsible, why do you still have to live with the consequences?"

"Because life isn't fair," Buffy said, raising her head. She stood, and picked Connor up, cuddling the boy to herself. "And because it's the right thing to do," she murmured into his downy hair.

"Fine," grumbled Xander. "Have it your way. Be stubborn. Just don't expect me to babysit for you."

* * *

"How did _we_ end up getting stuck babysitting?" moaned Xander.

"Because you have a day job that lets you out at 5, and I babysat yesterday," Dawn said, grabbing her purse. "I'm going to the Bronze. Bye."

The door closed behind her with a resounding thump.

Xander looked despairingly around his living room.

"I was looking forward to a quiet night," he complained. "Now we have to look after the crying, puking wonder?"

"You can still have a quiet night," Anya said briskly. "As long as you go somewhere else. I'm staying here with Connor." She scooped Connor out of the pram Dawn had brought him over in, cuddling him.

"I wanted a quiet night with _you_, though," Xander groused. "You know. You. Me. The bed. Getting all sweaty."

Anya covered Connor's ear with her free hand.

"Don't talk about sex in front of the baby, Xander!" she admonished. Ignoring her fiancé's pouting, Anya sat herself down on the couch, Connor on her knee. Connor graced her with a bright smile, and babbled happily.

"Aren't you just the sweetest bitty thing?" Anya cooed.

"You only like him cuz he likes you," Xander grumbled. "Me he hates."

"Well, it could be genetic," suggested Anya. "After all, you hate his father."

Xander drew his mouth up into a sour frown.

"Can we please not talk about Angel?"

"Besides," said Anya, ignoring his comment. "It will be good practice for us for when we have little Xanders running around. You want to hold him?"

Xander tried to make a hasty retreat, but Anya was already dumping the child on him. He extended his arms so that Connor wouldn't fall to the ground.

Placed in Xander's arms, Connor immediately began to scream bloody murder.

Anya snatched him back, frowning.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" objected Xander. "That kid just hates me."

Anya soothed Connor, bouncing him up and down on her hip.

"Shhhh, tiny child. You should cease crying now."

It took a long time for Connor to quiet.

Xander, slumped on the couch, groaned quietly.

"How long till Buffy gets home?"


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy stalked the graveyard, stake in hand. It had been a week since Wesley had shown up at her door with baby Connor, and already she was incredibly behind on her slaying. Willow had offered to forgo a night at the Bronze to look after him while Buffy patrolled.

A noise behind her made Buffy spin, stake raised.

"Evenin' to you too, Slayer."

It was only Spike. She lowered her stake.

"Spike," she nodded cordially.

"Haven't seen you out in a while, pet," said Spike. "Busy…" he sniffed the air. "Fryin' hamburgers?"

Buffy scowled. Her new job left her smelling like grease no matter how many times she washed.

"Shut it, Spike," she said. "Got to pay the bills somehow."

Spike took a step forward.

"You must have been busy," he said, his voice soft. "You haven't come to see me in a while."

Buffy sighed.

"Look, I told you, Spike. That's over."

"You say that every time," Spike reminded her. He stepped closer to her again, so now he was right in front of her. Buffy shivered reflexively. As wrong as her relationship with Spike was, a part of her still wanted it, wanted him.

"This time I mean it," she said, her voice a little unsteady.

Spike smirked.

"You _really _sound like you mean it, Slayer," he taunted.

Buffy took a step back.

"Look, Spike, I'm really exhausted right now. The last thing I need is another man keeping me up all night…"

Spike reacted instantly, jealousy painted all over his sharply angled face.

"_Another_ man? Another man, Slayer? You got another willin' slave?"

Buffy realized her mistake.

"Not… not like that. He's not... it's not what you think. He just cries all night. And all day too…" Buffy ran a hand through her hair, then turned back to him. "Please, Spike. I'm at the end of my rope. Please leave me alone." She began to walk away.

Spike fell into step beside her.

"Let me get this straight. You got a new bloke who keeps you up every night, but it's cuz he's cryin'? What'd you want a nancy-boy for anyways? Thought you had your fill of those."

"It's hardly his fault," Buffy replied. "Willow and I think he's teething."

Spike stopped walking for a moment, and then jogged to catch up with Buffy.

"A baby? You got a bitty baby in the house, Slayer? Where'd that come from? Cuz last time I checked – and it was only about a week ago – you weren't knocked up."

"Certainly not by you," Buffy shot back.

Something very like a flicker of pain flashed across Spike's face. And then it was gone.

"No," he said, "Not by me. So who? Red's kind of out of the game, and…" he paused. "Not Little Bit. Surely."

"No," said Buffy. "Not Dawn. Thank God. And not me neither. Connor's adopted."

"You thought, well I came back from the dead and my life is a mess, why not adopt a baby into the mix?"

Buffy's anger flared. Spike always knew how to get under her skin.

"It wasn't exactly a choice. He's just an innocent baby, and Angel needed my help, and…"

"Ah," said Spike. "Here we come to it. Angel. The great Poofter called in a favour from the girl he doesn't even talk to any more."

Buffy sighed.

"This wasn't about Angel."

"Bollocks," replied Spike rudely. "With you, it's always about Angel."

"I just got dumped a baby in my arms. I'm not _happy_ about it!" Buffy said loudly.

"Where'd Peaches get the kid, then? Someone he saved, doin' his usual white knight in black leather routine?"

"It's his son," Buffy said, lowering her voice.

Spike opened and shut his mouth several times.

"But he can't… we can't…"

"I know!" Buffy said sharply. "I know. All I know is that Wesley brought me Connor a week ago, and I've got to protect him. And that somehow, it's Angel's child." She wasn't looking where she was going, and she stumbled.

Spike automatically reached out and caught her, setting her on her feet.

"Woah there Slayer. You're knackered."

"Tell me something I don't know," Buffy replied wearily. "I haven't had much time for patrolling lately."

Spike looked thoughtful.

"I'll pick up your slack. I don't mind a spot o' violence now and then."

"Are you sure?" Buffy asked skeptically.

"Sure," Spike said. "Why not?"

A rush of gratitude spread over Buffy.

She leaned up, and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you."

Spike opened his mouth, and Buffy shook her head automatically.

"But not tonight, Spike. I have to go home, I left Willow with the baby." She started to walk away.

"Buffy?"

Buffy stopped when he called.

"Hmm?"

"Can I come see the little spawn sometime?" Spike asked. "You know, drop in some night? I like children."

"Yeah, with steak sauce," Buffy replied automatically. Then, she considered his request. "I guess. Dawn will be glad to see you again."

"And you? Will you be glad to see me again, Slayer?"

Buffy turned on her heels and walked away without answering.

* * *

It was dusk several days later when Spike strolled into the Summers house. It was becoming routine for him to drop in, now. As he entered through the kitchen door, he listened closely, his vampire hearing picking up two heartbeats, both in the living room.

" 'Lo, Little Bit," he said, depositing his coat on the stair railing as he walked past.

Dawn, who was sitting on the floor with a book, looked up.

"Hi Spike."

"Came to see the spawn. He here?"

Dawn blinked.

"Oh! Connor! Yeah, he's over there," she indicated a bassinet in the corner, and then went back to her book.

Spike walked over. He peered down at the baby, trying to discern some resemblance to his own grandsire. But to him, Connor just looked like every other baby.

"So you're the one who's caused all the trouble, are you?" He asked. He reached down and scooped Connor up, carefully supporting him as he remembered he was supposed to.

"Watch his head," Dawn instructed.

Spike moved over to the couch, sitting down with Connor in his lap. Dawn abandoned her book, and sat down beside him.

"I guess you heard the whole story, huh?" Dawn said.

"He's Angel's babe," Spike said. "And he's been dumped in Buffy's lap."

"Not just hers," Dawn grumbled. "He's such a pain the butt, and he's got to be looked after all the time!"

"That happens, with babies," Spike replied.

"As if my life didn't suck enough, and now I've got to add babysitting duty to the lot." Dawn scowled.

"Your life isn't the only one that's been changed, Bit," Spike reminded her.

"Yeah, I know," Dawn replied, chastised. "Buffy's has, too. She's a mommy now. But it's so unfair that he gets dumped on us, even if he _is_ kind of cute."

"Bet he'll grow up to be a poof, like his sire. It's in his blood"

"Angel doesn't know he's here," Dawn fixed him with a patented Summers glare. "So don't tell him!"

"Thought it was Angel who brought him here."

Dawn shook her head.

"It was Wesley. Apparently it's dangerous for Angel to know even where he is. Cuz there's a bunch of crazy cults after him for being some sort of promised one or something. It's for his own safety."

Spike weighed the look on Angel's face with the wrath of Buffy, and then nodded.

"I won't tell."

"Good."

"So where is everyone?" Spike asked, after several moments of silence.

"Willow's in class. Buffy won't be back from work till midnight. It's just me and Connor."

"Bet that's puttin' a cramp in your style."

Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Me? Social Life? No, not at all."

Spike grinned.

Connor opened his eyes, and seeing an unfamiliar face, began to wail.

"It's ok," Dawn assured Spike. "He does that a lot."

She offered the child a blue teething ring, which Connor threw back at her.

"Guess he doesn't want that."

"Hey there munchkin. Don't cry," Spike said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Uncle Spike here won't eat you."

"Only cuz he's not allowed," Dawn snorted.

Spike rolled his eyes, and proceeded to make faces at the whimpering baby. Dawn laughed at his antics, but it failed to sooth Connor.

Spike sighed.

"I've only got one face left, kid. And you're not going to like it."

"You'll scare him!" Dawn objected, but it was too late. Spike had already vamped out.

Connor regarded his twisted face for a moment, and then broke out into a wide, toothless grin.

"Well, what do you know," Spike said around his vampire teeth. "The little guy likes it."

"Well," said Dawn, considering. "He _is_ the son of a vampire."

* * *

When Buffy came home from work at midnight, completely drained and bone weary, she was surprised to hear laughter coming from the living room. It was a sound she hadn't heard in that house in a long time.

Cautiously, just in case it was a laughing demon, or another case of hyena possession, she peeked her head around the living room door.

Willow and Dawn were grouped around Spike, who held a sleeping Connor in his lap. They were sniggering as quietly as they could at a story he was telling.

"And then, outta nowhere, in sweeps the bloody queen herself!"

"What'd you do?" gasped Willow.

"Well, I did what any self respecting British vampire would do. I hightailed it out of there! I'm not going to bite the bloody queen!"

Willow and Dawn leaned against each other, sagging with laughter.

Buffy felt her first genuine smile in a very long time begin to form on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Buffy was utterly exhausted. She barely had enough energy to stand on her feet as she walked out of the Doublemeat Palace. She knew she should be thankful for the job, for the money it was bringing in, but right at that moment, all she wanted to do was go home and sleep for hours and hours. Or as long as Connor would let her. He was teething at the moment, and not very happy about it. His incessant crying was keeping everybody up. Dawn had invested in a set of ear plugs, and Buffy didn't blame her at all.

"Hey Buffy!" A coworker called from his car window. Chuck, Buffy remembered. "Do you want a ride?"

Chuck was a nice guy, despite working at that terrible job, and Buffy liked him. And she was absolutely sure she wanted a ride with him. She was just about to accept, when she remembered that she had to swing by the 24-hour grocery and buy diapers for Connor before she went home. She stifled her groan of annoyance. Connor was almost out of them, and she couldn't put it off. It was a good thing Wesley had left her money, or she wouldn't have been able to afford all the stuff a four month old needed.

"Thanks but no thanks, Chuck," she said reluctantly. "But it was really sweet of you to offer."

Chuck peered at her from his car window.

"Are you ok, Buffy?" he asked. "You look like you're sleepwalking."

"Haven't been getting much sleep," Buffy admitted. What with Connor crying most of the night, and patrols eating up her other night hours, 'not getting much sleep' was an understatement. And while as the Slayer Buffy could function on less sleep than a normal human, she did require _some_. Right now she was getting almost none.

"Insomnia?" Chuck asked.

Buffy made a face.

"Baby."

"I heard about your bundle of joy. Congrats." Chuck smiled at her. "Well, er, see you tomorrow then."

Buffy waved as he drove off. She'd had to tell her manager about Connor, and it had somehow gotten around to everyone at the restaurant. She _had_ wanted to keep it a secret, at least so people didn't think that's why she dropped out of school, but now that her coworkers knew, it wasn't so bad. At least now she didn't have to invent reasons to look like a zombie.

Buffy was so exhausted she felt almost dizzy. She bought the diapers she needed from a sympathetic looking clerk and walked home, dropping the shopping bag into the kitchen counter.

"Buffy, do you…" Willow walked into the room, holding Connor. She took one look at Buffy, and then shook her head. "No, never mind. You sleep. You look like you might pass out."

"Need… to… patrol…" Buffy's words were beginning to slur together.

"I'll do it," Willow offered. "And Spike will help."

Spike. He'd been weirdly helpful with the whole Connor thing, covering for her in patrols. She wondered idly what he expected in return. Since she had been giving Connor, their self-destructive relationship had not continued, much to his disappointment and her relief.

"Dawn can look after Connor," Willow continued.

Dawn gave a squeak of protest, but Willow shot her a silencing look.

"Go to bed," she instructed Buffy.

Buffy nodded.

"Night," she said absently.

She barely made it up the stairs before collapsing on her bed, fully clothed, and falling asleep instantly.

* * *

Buffy was woken by the clanging of her alarm clock. It was 2 in the afternoon, time to get up for work. Stupid weird shifts screwing up her internal clock.

She blinked. She had slept all evening, all through the night, and all morning. Why hadn't anyone woken her?

She showered and dressed, putting on causal clothes that she could throw her uniform over.

"Hey," Willow greeted her from the kitchen. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Buffy said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Why'd you let me sleep so long?"

"You're dead on your feet," Willow said, then winced at her words. "You know what I mean."

"Where's Connor?"

Willow pointed to the bassinet set up in the corner of the kitchen. Since Connor had to be wherever they were, the bassinet got hauled to every room of the house.

"He sleeping?" Buffy asked.

Willow nodded.

"Guess he had to do it some time. He cried most of the night."

"How come I didn't hear it?" Buffy said, surprised.

"You were out like a light," Willow said. She smiled at her friend nervously. "I wanted to make sure you slept properly for once."

Buffy smiled.

"Thanks, Wil. I appreciate it. I feel much better."

Willow nodded.

"Good. Your shift starts in an hour, you'd better eat something."

Buffy nodded, and set about making herself a sandwich.

"When do you have class?" She asked between bites.

Willow checked her watch.

"Half an hour ago."

Buffy winced.

"I'm sorry I made you miss it. You should have woken me."

"Some things are more important," Willow said warmly. "Besides, she teaches out of the book. I hardly need to come to class at all."

Buffy put her sandwich down, and came around the counter to hug her best friend.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Willow hugged Buffy tightly.

"For you, anything," she replied.

The two friends separated, smiling at one another.

"Right," said Buffy. "If I change for work right now, and you get your bag, you can get to class in time for the last half, and I can drop Connor off at the Magic Box in time for work."

* * *

Buffy tried to swallow her disappointment at the rejection letter she had picked up on her way out the door, and get on with her work. While Pretentious Todd babbled about something or other, Buffy couldn't help thinking about college – her life had been good then. She had had a mother, a boyfriend, no baby to look after. Not to mention she hadn't been dead. Well, she _had_ been once, but it was only for five minutes, and that hardly counted. But this was her life now, and she would have to get used to it.

"We're out of the special sauce," Todd sad, cutting through Buffy's thoughts.

She sighed.

"I'll get it." Anything to get away from his incessant pretentious chatter.

"No, your turn up front," said Todd. "I'll deal back here. You take the customers."

_Oh goody_, thought Buffy sarcastically. The joy of her uninterrupted night of sleep was wearing off, and she felt the ever-present exhaustion creeping back in. Without looking up, she walked to the cash register. Show time.

"Welcome to Doublemeat Palace," she said in a lifeless voice. "How may I help…"

It was only then that she glanced up. And nearly passed out. Her head swam and her vision blurred and her knees felt weak. If she hadn't leaned heavily on the counter, she would have tripped.

Riley. It was Riley, standing there in front of her. He looked… different. He wore all black, and a long scar ran from his right temple to his left cheek. He gave her a slight smile.

"Hey," he said.

Buffy's mind was still not working.

"Huh?" She said. Then, she collected herself. "Riley."

"Sorry to drop in on you like this, Buffy," Riley said.

_He_ was sorry?

"It's you," Buffy said, her brain still refusing to come to grips with what she saw in front of her.

"It's me."

"You're here."

"I know," said Riley.

"And…" she leaned up, peering at his face. "Were you always this tall?" she managed.

Riley leaned on the counter.

"Look," he said earnestly. "This isn't the way I wanted it. But something's come up, something big. We don't have much time. You understand?"

Buffy nodded.

"Not a word you've said so far," she said brightly. Her brain was beginning to work, its wheels to grudgingly start turning.

"Right. I should have known, anticipated. You're working."

Buffy glanced over his shoulder, to the line that was forming behind him. She was the only one on the counter.

"I wanted to explain," Riley continued. "I just don't have time. I've been up for 48 hours straight tracking something bad, and it's come to Sunnydale."

Great. Big surprise there. Buffy's mind was slipping into Slayer mode. Then, with a jolt, she remembered where she was.

"My hat is a cow," she whispered, shame flooding her.

"I know that I'm putting you on the spot," said Riley. "But, you know, here we are. I need the best. I need you, Buffy. Can you help me?"

Buffy looked into his honest, trusting blue eyes. How long had it been since anyone had needed her? Anyone that was over the age of one, anyways.

Pretentious Todd was suddenly at Buffy's elbow.

"Hellooooo, earth to Buffy," he said, annoyed. "People are waiting."

Buffy made another of her snap decisions.

"Todd? I have to go," she said, whipping off her Doublemeat hat, and grabbing her black coat from under the counter. "Family emergency."

"Connor?" Todd asked.

Buffy nodded, letting him continue with his misconception.

"Cover for me, please?"

Todd, who may have not been so bad after all, nodded.

"Sure."

Buffy followed Riley out of the restaurant.

* * *

"So, who's Connor?" Riley asked.

Buffy had changed into black clothes on their ride, and they were now driving down a side road. Buffy busied herself with pulling her hair back into a pony tail.

"Hmm?" She asked innocently.

"That guy, the one at the restaurant. You said family emergency and he said Connor."

"Oh," Buffy said. She scrambled desperately to think of a story. She really, really didn't want to explain her adopted son to her ex-boyfriend, especially when he was all handsome and James Bond. Thankfully, he pulled over at that moment, cutting the engine.

"I don't see our demon," Buffy said, scanning the horizon for the demon that Riley had filled her in on on the way there.

"It's not here," replied Riley.

"Let me guess," said Buffy, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she surveyed the low stone buildings they were walking past.

Riley grinned.

This felt good, Buffy realized. It felt good to be patrolling like this, to be working as a team, the playful chatter. To not view patrolling as a chore, but as fun. It hadn't felt like this in a long time.

They came to the edge of the path, with a high fence. Glancing over it, Buffy saw that they were on the top of a high dam. Far below, she could see water glinting off the lights.

"Down we go?" she guessed.

"Looks that way," Riley said. He began to fiddle with his equipment.

"That's a big step," Buffy joked. "So, Agent Finn, you got an extra jet pack for a girl like me?"

"Sorry," Riley chuckled. "Fresh out of jet packs. Looks like we'll have to share." He attached one end of the grappling line to a tree. "Hold on." He put his arm around Buffy, and together they walked towards the edge. Buffy had forgotten how tall he was, how broad his shoulders; how good it felt to have his arm around her.

Their descent down the dam was a rush. Buffy wished it was a ride, so she could go back up and do it again.

The demon attacked just as they reached the bottom. It rushed at Riley, who threw it off, ducking a swing of his arm. Buffy leaped into action, kicking the demon, who lashed out a Riley. Buffy was shoved aside roughly as Riley was hit in the stomach. He reeled in pain.

"Riley!" Buffy called, concerned.

She grabbed ahold of him, using him as leverage to swing both feet off the ground and kick the demon in the back. It tumbled to the ground.

Riley turned in Buffy's arms, pushing her against the wall. Was he going to kiss her? Is that what she wanted? So much had happened since he had abruptly taken off. She wasn't sure.

Over Riley's shoulder, Buffy saw a black-clad figure slide down a grappling line, landing gracefully nearby. It was a woman. She looked over at the two of them.

"Hey," she said.

Riley broke off immediately, moving away from Buffy. She tried not to feel hurt.

"Hey there," she smiled at Buffy. "What exactly are you doing with my husband?"

Buffy blinked. It was almost too much for her tired mind to process.

"Husband?"

She glanced over at Riley, who nodded a little stiffly.

"I'm guessing those aren't code names."

Riley winced.

"Buffy, meet Sam. Sam, Buffy."

"Pleasure," said Sam warmly.

Buffy caught a flicker of movement over the woman's shoulder.

"Demon," she replied.

While they had been talking, the demon had recovered from the blow Buffy had dealt it.

Sam grinned.

"Mine," she said. She rushed at the demon, grabbing both its arms and delivering a powerful kick.

"She's good," Buffy said, scrutinizing the other woman's fighting style.

"She's special," Riley agreed.

"How long have you been married?" Buffy asked snarkily. "Any children yet?"

Riley sighed.

"I meant to tell you," he said. "She caught up to us faster than I thought. She exceeds my expectations a lot."

Buffy didn't know what to think.

"You guys do this often?" she asked. "Tag-team demon fighting?"

"It's what brought us together," Riley admitted. "I almost feel sorry for the demon."

At that moment, the demon lashed out a Sam, hitting her across the face. She went down.

"Not quite," amended Riley. He leapt into the fray, catching the demon's hand as it reached out to strike Sam, and stunning it with his taser. Sam turned from her blow, kicking the demon in the back.

Buffy watched them fight, her mind still spinning.

The demon flung them both off, and Riley handed in a heap at Buffy's feet. She woke up to her situation, the demon in front of her. Sam was holding the demon's arm and kicking it. Buffy grabbed the demon's head.

"Consider this your wedding gift," she grunted. She twisted with all her slayer strength, snapping the demon's neck. It crumpled to the ground.

* * *

"I'm really sorry about the demon-slayage," Buffy said again, wincing.

"It's totally not your fault," Sam said reassuringly from the front seat. "We didn't tell you we wanted to follow it."

"I'm sorry anyways," Buffy said. "Being a slayer, I regularly, you know, _slay_ the demons."

She could feel a headache building up behind her eyes. Seeing Riley again had been hard enough, but now she'd made a fool of herself in front of his new wife, and she was _bone tired_.

"We really need to find those eggs before they hatch," Riley said tightly. "Can we regroup at your house?"

"Yeah, sure," Buffy said, rubbing her eyes in a vain attempt to ease the pressure there.

"You alright?" Sam asked, leaning around her seat in concern.

"Huh?" Buffy lifted her head to see the other woman peering at her. "Yeah. Fine… just, it's been a long day. With work and Dawn and slaying I've been getting zero sleep lately."

"You never needed much, if I remember," said Riley, allowing himself a small smile.

"The joys of slayer physiology," Buffy replied. "I actually _am_ built to stalk graveyards at midnight. But lately I've been getting less than usual."

"Stress?" Sam asked sympathetically.

"Connor's Teething," Buffy corrected absently.

Riley took a turn sharply.

"Pardon?"

Buffy blinked, realizing what she had said. Riley didn't know about Connor, and they were going to her house.

"There's a lot of other people living at my house now, since my mom died," she ad-libbed quickly. "Willow and Tara… but not Tara any more because they had a fight, and Dawn's stuff is all over the place, and Xander and Anya are always over, so… busy place."

"I heard about your mom. I'm sorry," Riley said, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I guess I missed a lot."

"You have _no_ idea how much," Buffy muttered.

* * *

They pulled up to 1630 Revello Drive, the house cheerfully lit. Buffy slid out of the black van's seat, walking towards the door. She wanted to head off whoever had Connor, but Riley and Sam were right behind her.

"Buffy! Where have you been?" Dawn demanded, flinging open the door. "We were worried when you didn't come home from work. And we can't get Connor to shut up!"

The baby's cries permeated the house. Willow hurried into the hallway, a wailing Connor on her shoulder.

"Buffy, thank goodness. He's doing that thing again where he won't be quiet till you hold him," she said, her face distressed.

Buffy felt a smile stretch over her face as she accepted the baby. It felt nice to have someone want only her, after her shock with Riley.

"Poor Connor, it must hurt so bad," she said, cuddling him to her. Connor buried his face on her coat, whimpering. "I missed you too, baby."

"Don't look now," said Dawn, "But there are people behind you."

Buffy stepped aside so Riley and Sam could come inside. She knew by the look on Riley's face that she was going to have to explain Connor, and quickly.

"Behold, the reason I was late," she said, indicating the black-clad commandos in the doorway.

Riley was staring at Connor, his eyes wide.

"Buffy… what…" he gasped.

Buffy held Connor close, as if to shield him from Riley's eyes.

"It's not what you…"

"Hey, Connor's stopped crying!" came Xander's voice from the kitchen. "That must mean mommy's home! Welcome back, Buff, we were worried about you. How was… Riley."

Riley didn't acknowledge Xander's greeting. He was still staring at Connor.

"How old is that baby?" he asked in a strangled voice.

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest.

"Why is it any of your business?" She demanded. "You left."

"Dawn…" Buffy said.

"No. He lost his right to ask about your life when he walked out of it without a second glance," Dawn said angrily.

Riley face was as white as a sheet.

"How old?" he asked.

"Four months," Buffy replied.

Riley blanched.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't give me much time to tell you much of anything," Buffy said tightly.

"Even that I had a son?"

"Would you have stayed if I had?" Buffy answered.

Sam looked from Riley's ice-pale face to Buffy holding the baby, and did the math.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Of course I would have stayed," Riley said. "If you had told me you were pregnant of course I would have."

"So I wasn't enough, but he would have been?" Buffy asked.

"Uh, Buff, aren't you forgetting something?" Willow asked.

Buffy blinked. She was getting caught up in the argument.

"I think I have a right to know that I have a son," Riley said, his words clipped.

Buffy sighed.

"He's not your son," she said. "He's Angel's."

Riley looked devastated all over again.

"That should surprise me, but it doesn't," he said after a moment.

"I know I'm new here," cut in Sam. "But isn't Angel that vampire? The one with the soul?"

"That's right," said Dawn tightly.

"Vampires can't have children."

"There's a lot about Angel that isn't a typical vampire," Buffy said, shifting Connor's weight a little.

"I do _not_ want to know," said Riley.

Xander made a face.

"You and me both."

"So after I left you ran to Angel and, what, got knocked up?" asked Riley, turning back to Buffy.

Buffy felt her anger flare.

"_You _left _me_, remember? And besides, _you're_ the one who came back married." She took a deep breath, calming herself. "Connor is my adopted son."

Riley blinked.

"I don't understand."

"Angel needed to keep his son safe," Willow said, stepping in. "So we are taking care of him for a while."

"He's not your son?" Riley said, turning to Buffy.

Buffy glared.

"He _is_ my son," she corrected sharply. "Just not by birth."

And, she realized, startled, it was true. At some point, she had fallen in love with the baby just as absolutely as she had once fallen in love with his father. He was _hers_, and she was never giving him up.

* * *

Buffy sat quietly on the couch, staring at her hands. In the kitchen, she could hear Willow and Sam chatting happily together. She wasn't jealous of Sam, really she wasn't. But Riley had his life completely together now, and hers was falling apart at the seams. She didn't know what to do.

"Hey," said a familiar voice.

Buffy looked up to see Riley standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Buffy said, scooting over on the couch to make room for him.

He perched on the edge of the sofa.

"Look, I'm really sorry about before. I jumped to conclusions, and …"

"It's ok," Buffy said. "I would have explained him, if they hadn't shoved him into my arms the second I walked in the door."

"I guess I didn't give you much of a chance," said Riley ruefully. "I just thought… he's the right age…"

"I know," said Buffy tiredly. "I know. It's like… my life's not confusing enough and then you have to throw in being a mommy."

"It must be hard," Riley agreed.

"Hard, yes. And confusing, and I don't know what I'm doing half the time. Gina from work tells me that's the natural state of parenthood."

Riley reached over, putting his hand gently on top of hers.

"You're doing a wonderful job, Buffy. I can see how you're holding everyone together. You mom would be proud."

Buffy felt tears burn in her eyes.

"And," continued Riley almost shyly, "I would have been proud to be Connor's father, if it were true."

Buffy blinked hard, willing her tears not to fall.

"Thank you," she said shakily.

Riley gave her a small smile.

"Riley?" It was Sam, coming out from the kitchen. "We should start looking for the Doctor. Clock's ticking."

Buffy cleared her throat, allowing her mind to switch back to slayer mode.

"The Doctor?"

"What the dealer is calling himself," said Riley, getting up to stand beside Sam. "Or herself. I put a tracker on one of those eggs, so the equipment should be up and running."

Sam pulled a small hand held device out of her pocket, and checked.

"Restfield Cemetery," she read off the map.

Buffy got up, and stood beside her, peering at the tracking device.

"Hmmm."

Over Sam's shoulder, Willow scrutinized the screen.

"Hey! That looks like right around the same spot as Spike's crypt. I wonder if he… oh."

Realization dawned on her the same time it did everyone else in the room.

* * *

Buffy burst into Spike's crypt without knocking. Spike looked up from his position on top of a coffin, a book in his lap.

"Hello, pet," he greeted her. "Thought I might be seeing you around. Rumour is Captain Cardboard is back in town."

Buffy was furious. Beyond furious. She had even begun to let herself _like_ Spike, and now _this_? She seethed.

"How could you?" she demanded. "I let you near my baby!" Behind her, Riley and Sam filed in, guns raised.

"Nice place," Riley commented dryly, looking around the crypt's dusty, half-decorated interior.

Spike unfurled himself from his cross-legged position, leaning casually against the coffin.

"Soldier Boy," he greeted Riley.

"Hostile 17," Riley replied back.

"I take it you aren't here for a quick shag," Spike said to Buffy.

Buffy glared at him.

"You come near me and I'll cut it off. You'll spend the rest of your afterlife singing soprano."

Both Spike and Riley winced.

"Come to say hello, have you Captain Fantastic?" Spike asked Riley.

"Not exactly… Doctor."

"I prefer Spike, actually. No need to get formal," Spike snarked.

"I can't believe I was letting myself trust you," Buffy said, coming back to the point. "I can't believe I was treating you like a person. You're a soulless monster."

A flicker of hurt flashed across Spike's face, and then it was gone.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"We've come for your supply."

"That's what they all say," Spike smirked.

"The eggs," Sam clarified, impatient with the conversation. "We've come for the eggs you stole."

"The eggs that will very shortly hatch into at least a dozen demons," Riley added.

"You're off your nut, Soldier Boy," Spike said casually. "Must have been those drugs they were pumping into you. I warned you."

Buffy darted forward, seizing Spike by his collar and slamming him into the wall of the crypt.

"Tell me where the nest is, or I will take this place apart brick by brick."

"Now, now, luv," Spike taunted. "This is how it always starts, isn't it? You sure you want to start something in front of Soldier Boy here?"

"You tell me where those eggs are, or I swear to God I will stake you," Buffy replied.

Spike smirked.

"Promises, promises, Slayer."

"Ry," Sam called. She had found the ladder to the underground part of the crypt. She started climbing down it, Riley following her.

Buffy gave Spike a shove, and released him. She followed Riley down the ladder, and through the underground rooms. She let him lead, not giving on that she was fairly familiar with these rooms.

"You sure they're here?" she asked quietly.

Riley held up his tracker. According to the signal, they were right on top of them.

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner, a cluster of brownish-gray eggs the size of beach balls could be seen.

Buffy exhaled.

"I almost let myself believe you were worth trusting," she said.

Behind her, a muscle in Spike's face twitched.

"You screwed up, Spike. You didn't keep them frozen, did you… Doctor?"

"You can stop calling me that any time," Spike said sharply. "Thing is, they're not mine. I'm keeping them for a friend of mine, who…"

Buffy lashed out, punching him in the nose. Spike stumbled backwards, his nose bleeding.

"No more games," she snapped.

"That's bloody funny coming from you!" said Spike sharply. "Since Captain Cardboard and his merry band of Commandos put this chip in my head I haven't been able to eat proper. I've got to buy my meals, and blood costs money. Where do you think it comes from, sunshine? You got your ways of making money, and I've got mine. You know what I am. You've always known."

"Can you shut him up?" Riley asked.

Buffy shook her head, glaring down at Spike's sprawled form.

"Not so far."

Sam pulled a long, thin weapon from the holster strapped to her back.

"We'd better do this fast before those things hatch. They're really gross."

She pushed a button, and fire spurted out of the end. Efficiently, Sam scorched the eggs. After a few minutes, all that was left of them was ash.

"Hey, Sam," Buffy said, smiling grimly. "Get the record collection too. Spike loves them."

Behind her, Spike groaned in protest.

* * *

"So this is goodbye?" Buffy asked. They were outside the Magic Box. She had stepped out because Connor was crying, and had found Riley sitting contemplatively on the front step.

"Yeah," said Riley.

"Do I get to know where you're going, or is it top secret?" Buffy asked.

"Nepal."

"Ah," said Buffy, refusing to elaborate. She sat down on the step beside him.

"I'll send you a post card."

Riley took a deep breath, and then smiled.

"Can I told him?" he asked.

"Sure."

Buffy handed Connor over, and Riley cradled him against his shoulder.

"He's heavy," he complained lightly. "How do you hold him all the time?"

Buffy smiled.  
"Slayer strength," she confided.

Riley balanced Connor so he could look into the baby's face.

"He's a cute little guy," he admitted.

Buffy's smile grew wider.

"Cheap brownie points praising my son, Finn." She sighed, rubbing her temples wearily. "Did you wait till your life was absolutely perfect before sending a demon here to rub it in my face?"

"It wasn't easy for me to come back here," Riley admitted. "I was terrified of seeing you again."

"Well, I guess my incredible pathetic-ness softened the blow, huh? I mean, I'm an unwed mother college drop out who works in a burger joint."

Riley smiled slightly.

"You know what I see, Buffy? I see an incredibly strong, incredibly beautiful woman who is holding her family together, who dropped out of college to take care of her little sister; who is working a crappy job to pay the bills; who saves the world on a regular basis; heck, who took in somebody else's child and loves him like her own. That other stuff, it doesn't touch you. You are still the most amazing woman I've ever known. And…" he leaned closer. "Don't tell my wife, but you're still kind of a hottie. You know, for a mom."

Buffy laughed, even though tears were gathering in her eyes.

"Thank you, Riley," she said. "I needed to hear that."

Connor babbled against Riley's shoulder.

Riley pulled him away, resting him on his knees.

"You've got one incredible mom, kid," he said.

Connor put his fist in his mouth and looked at Riley with wide eyes.

Buffy and Riley both laughed.

The door of the Magic Box opened, and Sam stepped through, followed by Willow, Anya, and Xander.

"We've got to go," she said.

Riley stood up, and handed Connor back to Buffy.

"Duty calls," he joked. His voice lowered. "Bye, Buffy."

"We'll keep in touch," Sam promised Willow, exchanging hugs with her and Xander.

Dawn glared at Riley.

"You just going to take off again, or do I get a hug?"

Riley engulfed the petite teenager in a bear hug.

"Goodbye Dawn," he said.

Dawn sniffled.

"I thought it would suck less this time," she said. "It doesn't."

"Our ride's here," Sam said, pointing to a helicopter circling the sky.

With a final wave, Mr. and Mrs. Finn walked down the street towards their ride.

Connor began to cry, the helicopter noise too loud for him.

"Shhh," said Buffy, moving into the Magic Box. She cuddled him close, comforting him as his sobs slowly died down.

Willow, Anya, Xander, and Dawn came in from the street, and moved to the table at the back of the store, where they immediately started bickering over who got the last donut. Anya moved to the till to count the day's take.

Buffy smiled to herself. Maybe her life wasn't so bad after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Buffy picked up on the second ring, surprised that anyone would be calling this early in the morning. The only reason _she _was up was that Connor was a morning person. The rest of the house would be up soon enough, and then the preparations would start. It was T-minus zero hour – wedding day.

"Hello?" she said.

_"Buffy!" _

"Wes!" Buffy smiled shifting the phone to a more comfortable position against her shoulder. "You're early this week," she joked. For the last six weeks, Wesley had been calling every week to check on Connor and make sure everything was alright with the Sunnydale crew.

_"Yes, sorry about that,"_ Wesley apologized. _"We're going on a bit of a mission later on, and I'll be gone the whole week. How is everything?" _

"Everything's good," Buffy said. "But crazy. You called at the right time. It's Xander and Anya's wedding day today."

_"Oh yes,"_ said Wesley. _"Please convey my congratulations to them." _

"I will."

"_How is Connor?"_ Wesley asked.

Buffy smiled, getting up from the edge of her bed and glancing over at the crib where Connor lay, happily occupied by his own toes.

"He's good," she said. "Still teething. But it's getting better. He's got lotsa tiny white teeth now. And he's been biting everything in sight! Willow says he'll start chewing the furniture if we don't get him a new teething ring soon."

Wesley laughed.

_"Oh dear." _

"Yeah, he's a menace," said Buffy, leaning on the railing of the crib and grinning down at the boy. "Aren't you, kiddo? But Wes, I've been thinking, Connor doesn't have a birth certificate, does he?"

_"I don't think they issue those for vampires,"_ Wesley responded.

"Hmm," said Buffy. "Thought not. He was kinda born on the DL, wasn't he? But what if those pesky social services people come by? They're going to want to know where Connor came from, and where his papers are and boring stuff like that. Do you know somebody that can forge that kind of thing?"

Wesley was silent for a long time.

_"Yes,"_ he said finally, gruffly. _"I think I know someone. What would you like them to say?" _

"Well," said Buffy, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger. "About that…"

* * *

Buffy tried to shush Connor, but the baby would not be shushed. His cries would fade to a whimper, and then would break out into full blown crying again. He had been fed, changed, rocked, everything, and yet he would not stop.

Well, reflected Buffy as she swayed around the dining room in an attempt to sooth his wails, he picked the right night to keep everyone awake. Nobody was sleeping tonight.

Sitting at the dining room table, her laptop in front of her and her head in her hands, was Willow.

"It's been three days, Buffy," she said wearily. "Where could he be?"

"He ran out on his wedding, Wil," Buffy said. "Give him a little space."

"I know," said Willow wearily. "I'm just worried."

"Me too," said Buffy. She shifted Connor's weight on her shoulder, rubbing his small back with her free hand. "Even Connor knows there's something wrong. He misses his Uncle Xander."

Willow smiled a little at this.

"He hates Xander, remember?"

"That's only revenge for Xander hating his daddy," Buffy reasoned. She dropped a kiss on Connor's head, as her back rubbing began to quiet him. At the thought of Angel, her heart constricted. Having Angel's son in her arms kept him constantly in her mind. Her poor heart felt like it had bruises.

"Where _is_ he?" Willow groaned, breaking Buffy out of her painful spiral of introspection. "What if he's stuck in a ditch somewhere? What if he can't find his way home, what if…"

Buffy interrupted Willow's rant.

"Stop with the black hole of worry, Wil," she reminded her friend. "He has to figure a lot of stuff out before he can come home."

Willow nodded absently.

"At least Dawn's gone to her friend's house for the night. She might be able to get some sleep, finally. Unlike the rest of us," she said, tapping on the keys of her laptop.

"Hmm," Buffy hummed.

Connor looked like he might be dropping off to sleep. Buffy sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness," she breathed. "I thought he was going to cry all night."

"Like he did last night," said Willow. "And the night before. And the night before. Poor little guy," she abandoned her laptop to cuddle Connor. "Teething is pretty uncomfortable. So I hear. I'd cry too if I had teeth erupting from my mouth."

Connor's eyes were drooping, his small mouth opening in a wide yawn.

"I know, baby," Buffy said. "Mommy and Auntie Willow are tired too."

Connor was now fully asleep, and Buffy felt exhaustion pulling at her as well. She slept when Connor slept, and she'd take whatever she could get. Carefully, she laid Connor down in his bassinette in the living room, and crashed on the couch.

"You should try and get some sleep, Wil," she called into the dining room.

"Still too wired," Willow answered back. "You sleep, though."

The sound of the door opening jerked Buffy out of her doze. She opened her eyes in time to see Willow rush to the door, and Xander to come stumbling through it.

"Xander!" said Willow. She had forgotten to keep her voice down. Her loud exclamation woke Connor up, and he was upset.

He screamed his protest for the world to hear.

"Oops," winced Willow.

Immediately, Buffy was awake. She wearily picked the baby up, rocking him against her shoulder.

"Hi Xander," she said, giving him a small smile.

"I see my presence has not gone unnoticed," Xander said.

Willow threw her arms around her best friend and hugged him tightly.

"We were so worried about you!" she said.

"Sorry," Xander replied. "I'm sorry. About everything."

Buffy came forward, and Xander put his arms around both her and Willow, in a three-way hug.

"I even missed the screaming wonder," Xander said, regarding Connor with affectionate dislike.

"You missed lots of screaming," Buffy assured him

Xander made a face.

"Oh joy."

* * *

"Hey Xand, I've been thinking," Buffy said, trailing into the living room, where Xander was moping on the couch. He'd been there for the past week, ever since coming back from his abortive wedding attempt.

Xander looked up.

"Uh oh," he joked lamely. "The Buffster's been thinking."

Buffy shifted Connor on her shoulder, and made a face at him.

"You're not going to go back to your apartment, right?"

"No," said Xander, shuddering lightly. "It's too full of… her."

Buffy nodded, understanding.

"Well I was thinking, you can't sleep on the couch forever. Eventually we're going to need our living room back."

"Oh. Right. Sorry about that," Xander said, getting up and picking up a discarded shirt. "I'll get out of your way, then."

With her free hand, Buffy reached out and smacked Xander's shoulder.

"That's not what I meant, you dummy. Just listen. I'm wondering if you want to stay here. I only have the basement to offer, and it's not exactly the Ritz, but we could fix it up a bit, put a bed down there, put up some nice curtains, you know."

Xander was looking at her, but not saying a thing. It was making Buffy nervous. She began to babble.

"I mean, I know you're sick of basements, but at least it wouldn't be your parents', and…"

She was cut off by Xander, who in one swift move enveloped both her and Connor in a hug.

"I love you, you know that don't you Buff? You're the best friend a guy could ask for. Besides Willow."

Buffy grinned.

"Anything to get you off my sofa," she teased. She sat down beside him on said sofa, and he draped his arm easily over her shoulder. "How're you holding up?" she asked softly.

Xander shrugged.

"Not so good on the Xander-scale, I have to say," he replied. "I screwed up big time, didn't I, Buff?"

Buffy didn't say anything, just settled Connor more comfortably on her shoulder.

Xander sighed.

"It was just terrifying. Suddenly Anya was talking about mortgages and kids and I wasn't ready for that. I guess you think I'm stupid for asking her to marry me in the first place."

"I don't think you're stupid," Buffy assured him.

"I thought I could do it, honestly I did," Xander said, without looking at her. "Right up until the moment I was standing in the church, I thought I could do it."

"And then?" Buffy prompted.

"And then I realized what a big faker I was. I'm only pretending to be grown up, Buff, you know that. Really, I'm just as much the goofy teenager as I ever was."

"I guess life has a way of springing stuff on us," Buffy said, her eyes travelling down to Connor, who was dozing lightly against her shoulder. "One minute you're a regular kid doing regular stupid kid things, and the next _wham!_ Someone hands you a baby. You don't get an instruction book or anything that says 'congrats, you're grown up now! Here's everything you need to be responsible and mature.' You just need to figure it out as you go."

Xander smiled lightly.

"Not all of us have a kid to put that all in perspective," he squinted at Connor. "You know, he's kinda cute when he's like this." Tentatively, Xander reached out and laid a hand on Connor's head, stroking his downy baby hair.

Connor was instantly awake, his eyes screwed against a wail.

Xander snatched his hand away.

"I take it back!"

* * *

Life, Dawn decided, sucked. Everything about it just sucked giant purple popsicles. And everyone knew that the purple popsicles were the worst ones, the ones nobody wanted that got left in the freezer for months, and melted slightly into a purple gooey mess at the back of the icebox.

Yup, right now, life was a purple gooey mess. She had homework stacked up to the rafters, her old friends didn't talk to her any more, and to top it all off, she had babysitting duty tonight while Buffy worked and Willow went to class. Xander was staying in the basement now, but there was no way they were letting him near the baby. Those two hated each other.

Come to think of it, Dawn wasn't very fond of the baby either. He was noisy and demanding, and diapers were _gross_. He couldn't be let out of sight for even five minutes or Buffy would freak, and he was in the way all the time. Why did Buffy have to take care of him anyways? He wasn't her kid, he was Angel's.

But then, Dawn thought sourly, Buffy would do anything for Angel. No matter what the older girl said, she was still head over tail in love with Angel. That's what this was really about. Buffy had this sick fantasy that she and Angel had a baby together, and that if she took care of Connor, Angel would come back to her. It was _way_ twisted.

Dawn rounded her street, and trudged down it, feeling very low. Before, if she came home like this, Mom would make her a cup of hot chocolate, and they would talk about it over dinner. Now, she was lucky if she saw any of the people living in her house, besides Connor, who didn't count anyways. There was nobody to take care of her; she had to take care of others.

Out of habit, Dawn checked the mailbox before unlocking the door. She was surprised to find a large brown envelope sticking out of it. Willow usually took the mail in before she went to class. Dawn turned it over. It was addressed, in elegantly tidy writing, to Buffy.

"Buffy?" Dawn called out, pushing the door open.

"We're in here, Dawnie," Willow called from the kitchen.

She slipped her shoes off, and padded down the hall to see all three resident Scoobies sitting at the breakfast bar. In the corner sat the white bassinet; as always, Connor was in sight.

"Hey Dawnster, how was school?" Xander asked.

Dawn dropped her bag on the floor and groaned.

"I hate school," she said.

Willow smiled.

"Cheer up," she said. "By next year, they'll have finished the new high school, and you can go to that, instead of them shoving you older kids in the elementary schools."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better how?" Dawn asked, sitting on a stool and leaning her head on her hand. "Thanks so much for blowing the school up, guys."

Buffy smiled.

"Anytime," she said. "One of the many services we offer here at Scooby headquarters."

Dawn rolled her eyes.

"This was in the mail for you," she said, throwing the envelope on the table. "We got anything to eat?"

"Pop tarts," Xander said, a big smile on his face.

"Oooh, goody," said Dawn, running to the cupboard and pulling the brightly coloured box out. "I thought Willow didn't believe in pop tarts?"

Willow wrinkled her nose.

"Xander shopped today."

"Ah," said Dawn. "That explains it."

Buffy, meanwhile, ripped open her envelope, and slid out the various papers from inside.

"Whatcha got there, Buff?" Willow asked, peering over her shoulder.

"It's from Wes," Buffy said, showing her friend the short letter Wesley had written. From inside the folded paper, several hundred dollar bills slipped out.

"Buffy's monthly child support," Xander joked.

Buffy made a face at him.

"Hey, at least someone cares if the little guy goes to college or not!" she said.

"Buffy there's something else," Willow said, pointing down to the envelope.

Dawn leaned over her sister's shoulder as the slayer slid the piece of paper out of the envelope.

"Birth certificate?" she asked, suddenly a lot more interested than she had been a few seconds ago.

Buffy's eyes scanned it.

"Wow, Wes, I knew you were good, but this is like, freakishly good."

"Splainy," Willow demanded, leaning across the table to look at the certificate.

Buffy slid it over so that Willow and Xander could take a better look at it.

"About a week ago I realized that Connor didn't have a birth certificate. And I didn't want those social service people trying to take him away from me. So I asked Wes if he had any connections that would get me one. I didn't expect it to be that fast."

"Uh, Buff?" Willow said, her eyes glued to the paper. "Did you see this?"

"See what?"

Willow pointed to a spot on the paper. Buffy came around the table to see it right side up, while Dawn peered over Xander's shoulder. Under the spot for "mother" it read _Buffy Anne Summers_.

Buffy shrugged.

"So?"

"Is that supposed to happen?" Xander asked, staring at the page in disbelief.

"You're not Connor's birth mom," Dawn reminded her, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at her older sister. "Or did you forget not giving birth?"

"What is it supposed to say, 'Darla the Vampire'? At least I'm a real person," Buffy said. She smoothed her finger over her name on the certificate. "This way, he's legally mine, no questions asked."

"_Is _it legal?" Willow asked.

Buffy nodded.

"Wes says it is."

"There's just one problem, Buff," said Xander, "He's not your kid."

Dawn could almost here Buffy's defenses go up, like the clang of a drawbridge being drawn.

"Excuse me?" she said, her voice hard as iron.

"I don't care what that paper says, it's a lie," Xander said. " He's not your kid, Buffy. He's Angel's. And no matter how much you pretend, he's never going to be your kid."

Buffy's eyes were cold as she regarded her friend.

"He's my kid," she said, her words all very carefully annunciated.

"Uh, no, he's not," said Xander. His temper, already short these days, compounded with his old dislike for Angel, was boiling to the surface once again. "That paper's a lie. You're lying to people by telling them Connor's your son."

"And what am I supposed to say?" Buffy snapped. " 'This is Connor. He's my vampire ex-boyfriend's miraculously non-vampire baby that I'm looking after for a while because a bunch of demon cults want to kill him. Please don't take him away from me, Social Service lady'? If I want to keep Connor, this is what I have to do."

"And what about when Angel wants him back?" Dawn interrupted. "What're you going to do then? I know you've got some sort of twisted fantasy about you and him and Connor being a family, but that doesn't make it true."

"I thought you of all people would have understood," Buffy said, turning to her sister.

Dawn felt her blood run cold. She hated feeling like a freak, being reminded that she wasn't human.

"Me of all people?" she asked, her voice dropping dangerously low.

Buffy sighed, recognizing the tone instantly.

"That's not what I meant, Dawnie. What I mean is, you're not born of Mom and Dad either. But that doesn't make you less their daughter or less my sister. It's the same with Connor," she put her hands on both her sister's shoulders. "This seems to be the way I get family. Now, I didn't ask for Connor. But he's my son, just like you're my sister."

Dawn looked once into her older sister's face, then wrapped her arms around her.

"I love you, Buffy," she said. "I don't say that enough."

"I love you too, Dawn," she gently stroked Dawn's long hair, and for the first time in a long time, Dawn felt loved and protected like she used to. Buffy pulled away, smiling. "You and Connor, and Willow and Xander, you guys are the family I _choose_."

Willow joined them, with an arm over each Summers sister.

"We're a family," she agreed. "And I say, if Buffy wants to be Connor's mother for real, why not? When Angel comes back… we'll deal with that then. In the mean time, Buffy's got a point, we can't just have a baby around with no explanation."

Xander looked at the girls, then at Connor, then back to the girls.

"Fine, fine," He grumbled. He came around the other side of the island to join the hug. "Official welcome to the family, Connor Summers."

There was general hugging, then everyone broke away, resuming their places around the island. Dawn picked up her half eaten pop tart and continued munching.

Buffy went to clear some plates from the dining room, and paused in the doorway.

"And I _so_ do not have a family fantasy about me and Angel," she said, hands on her hips.

Even Xander snorted.

"Yeah, whatever, Buff."


	6. Chapter 6

Buffy let out a long sigh as she walked into her room, and closed the door behind her. Carefully, she drew the bolt over the door, locking it firmly in place. She sat on the edge of her bed, and put her head in her hands, indulging in a moment of self-pity. She was so tired. She felt like the aching tiredness had gotten into her bones and settled there, so that her very core was made up of exhaustion.

But she had to be strong, for the others. Even if all she wanted to do was curl up and die, she couldn't She was the slayer, and the others relied on her to be strong. So she could fake it, for another day. Brushing off the errant tear that slid down her cheek, Buffy slid Connor's birth cirtificate out of the envelope. She ran her eyes carefully over it, checking for mistakes.

_Name: Connor Liam Summers _

_Father: Liam Angel _

_Mother: Buffy Anne Summers _

_Date of Birth: November 19 _

_Hair colour: brown _

_Eye colour: brown _

Buffy's eyes lingered on Angel's name, and with one finger she gently traced the letters of it.

_Father: Liam Angel. _

_Mother: Buffy Anne Summers. _

Despite what she had said to Dawn, those two names together filled her with a sort of quiet joy. Somehow, in a way that she couldn't explain to anyone, not even her sister and her best friends, they _were_ a family. Connor linked her and Angel indelably together. She and Angel had a child, it said so right here on Connor's official documents. Even if it wasn't biologically true, it was in all other senses. And that meant something to her, even if it didn't to anyone else.

Buffy sighed again, and slipped off her bed. She opened her closet, and hauled a beat-up leather bag from the back. Unzipping it, Buffy slipped Connor's birth cirtificate into brown envelope, which contained other papers. She hadn't shown this bag to anyone, but this was her emergency bag. In it she had a change of clothes, all the important documents, pictures of her family, and all of Angel's gifts to her. The leather jacket, the book, the necklace, the ring, all were carefully tucked away. If there was one thing that their escape in a camper with Dawn last year had taught her, it was that she might have to run at any time. Better to have her precious things packed so that she could grab them easily.

Buffy pulled out the cash that Wesley had sent her, and opened another envelope, slipping them in with the rest of the bills. Emergency supplies of cash were good too. She had been spiriting as much cash as she could into this stash, just in case. She'd have to be crazy to trust the First Bank of Sunnydale with more than a roll of ones - every demon worth their salt had robbed at place at least once.

She sat back on her heels for a moment, checking through the contents of her emergency bag as she always did when she opened it, before zipping it back up and shoving it back into her closet. She glanced at her watch, swore under her breath, and scrambled to her feet, grabbing her Doublemeat uniform off the back of her chair as she went.

* * *

"Operation Slayer is a go"

"I don't see why we have to do this," Andrew whined. "What makes you think anything's changed since the cameras broke down? Come on, let's go watch the new TRON trailer and compare it frame by frame to the original."

Jonathan, who had been slumped in his chair idly spinning it around and around on its wheels, perked up.

"Yeah, let's do that!"

Warren made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat.

"Don't you two buffoons get it?" he demanded. "We have to watch the slayer all the time. Our unfortunate technical difficulties the last two weeks means that we haven't been able to keep tabs on her. Now that we have her on surveillance, we can track her movements and plan our evil schemes accordingly."

"I guess," Andrew said dully.

"Now come over here and help me get the command centre online."

"I thought we agreed to call it the Batcave?" Jonathan said, spinning in his chair again.

"No, that name sucks," Warren snapped back. "Besides, we're not Batman, we're Lex Luthor."

"Lex was Superman's villian," Andrew corrected

"Not in Smallville," said Jonathan.

Andrew frowned.

"I thought we agreed never to talk about Smallville and their obvious disregard for Superman cannon. There were too many fights."

"I like that show," Jonathan replied sulkly.

"You just like to ogle Lana Lang," Andrew countered.

Warren glared at both of them.

"Will you two shut up for _one second_? I'm bringing the cameras online."

Warren pressed enter on the keyboard, and one by one the images began to appear on the bank of monitors he had set up in front of him. The flickering glow of the screens lit his face, giving him the eerie supervillian quality he was looking for.

"Here we are. Cameras online."

Jonathan stared at the screens for approximately two seconds.

"Good. They're up and running. Can we watch TRON now, Lex?"

"I don't get why we have to keep watching her anyways," Andrew complained. "All she ever does now is go to work at the burger palace and take the kid out for walks."

"Yeah but where did that kid come from?" Warren asked. "It's a mystery, guys! Aren't you the least bit curious why one day there was no kid and the next the slayers in full mommy-mode?"

Jonathan snorted.

"What are we, Nancy Drew? Buffy's got a kid now. So what?"

"So the more we know about this kid, the more we can plan our kidnap of him in revenge. Remember, that was our plan back before our cameras went on the fritz? It took you two 'geniuses' two weeks to fix them!" Warren would have ranted longer, but Andrew punched him in the shoulder.

"Shut up!" he hissed. "Something's happening!"

Sure enough, the camera hidden in a lawn gnome on Buffy's front drive was picking up activity - the slayer's little sister and the redhead witch were sitting down on the front porch, drinks in hand. The slayer's sister sat back in her chair with a sigh.

"It's so quiet," she said.

Willow smiled.

"Yeah. We haven't exactly been making with the quiet around here lately."

"You mean since Buffy got a baby and Xander started renovating the basement?" Dawn quipped.

Willow took a sip of her drink.

"Among other things," she replied. "I never thought I'd be so glad to see Xander sleeping with another man, but him on the couch with Connor is kinda adorible."

"At least Connor's quit hating him," Dawn smirked.

"Quit not being able to stand him, anyways," Willow corrected. "I think they tolerate each other. Which means, hey, another babysitter."

Dawn chuckled humourlessly.

"Yeah, cuz we can't exactly pay Suzy down the street to look after the little monster. What with him being the vampire child and all. Who knows when freaky vamp powers are going to manifest."

Willow grinned.

"As long as it's not drinking blood. Formula I can handle, but blood? Not so much."

They carried on talking, but the nerd trio weren't listening any more.

"Did she just say what I think she said?" Andrew asked in astonishment.

"She just said Buffy's baby is a vampire," replied Jonathan, staring at the other two with wide eyes.

"No," corrected Warren, "What she said was the kid was the _child_ of vampires. Do you know how valuable that makes him?"

"Valuable?" Hedged Jonathan.

Warren was grinning like Christmas had come early.

"Gentlemen, I think I have a plan," he said.

* * *

Buffy walked back from work slowly. She was exhausted, she was hungry, and her brain hurt. She just wanted to go home, cuddle her little boy, and sleep for hours. She breathed a sigh of relief as she walked up her own drive and pulled open the front door.

Inside, everyone was in the living room. Xander was sprawled out on the couch, watching television, while Willow and Dawn were playing with Connor off to the side. Buffy smiled and dropped her purse on the stairs.

"Hey there," she said, coming to sit beside her sister and her best friend. "How's my little man? How's my big boy?"

Connor grinned at her, and held out his arms. Buffy felt a rush of gratification. He recognized her as his mother and wanted her. She picked him up and set him in her lap.

"Who's mommy's big boy?" she crooned, wondering what it was about parenthood that made you refer to yourself in third person. "Hey Dawnie, Wil."

"Hey," said Willow, smiling sadly. She'd had another fight with Tara today.

"How are you?" Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged.

"The love of my life hates me and I'm addicted to magick. I'd say I'm dandy."

Buffy winced.

"Sorry, Wil. I wish there was something I could do."

"You're doing it right now," Willow said, giving her a wobbly smile.

Buffy pulled her best friend into a side hug with one arm, rubbing her back soothingly.

"I'll trade places with you," Dawn offered. "I'll be lovesick, and you do my homework."

"It's a deal," Willow agreed.

"Don't say that too loud," Xander reminded them from the couch. "Someone might be listening, and body swapping is _so_ last week."

"Don't worry, I didn't say the magic words," Dawn said, wrinkling her nose. "I've learned _that_ lesson pretty well."

"Good thing too," said Willow, getting up off the floor and retrieving her laptop. "I love you, Dawnie, but I kinda don't wanna go back to high school again."

Connor was squirming on Buffy's lap, making it hard for her to keep hold of him. While she half-listened to the chatter around her, Buffy stood Connor up on his feet, holding his small hands in hers.

Connor had been trying to stand up for the past couple of days, and Buffy figured it wouldn't do any harm to let him. He was still a little young to be walking, according to the parenting books Buffy had taken out of the library and read like a maniac those first couple of weeks. While still clinging on to her fingers, Connor took a stumbling step forward, then another. He pushed her hands away with a surprising amount of force for someone who wasn't one years old yet, and by himself took two more steps before sitting down abruptly.

The room was silent except for the chatter of the television. All eyes were on Connor.

"Did Connor just walk?" Xander asked, startled.

Buffy blinked, looking at her son as he happily played with a toy that had been left on the ground, oblivious to the chaos he had just caused.

"I thought he wasn't going to walk till after he was one?" Dawn said, staring at the baby.

"I guess he's a fast learner," said Buffy. She scooted over to where Connor was sitting, checking to see that his fall hadn't hurt him. He looked up at her with wide, curious eyes.

"Uh, guys?" Willow broke through the stunned silence in the room. "I hate to break up a family moment, but you've got to see this."

Buffy picked Connor up, much to his disapproval, and headed with the others to the dining room table, which Willow had commendeered as her desk in the last months. She'd cleared a space among the papers and textbooks for her computer.

"Look at this," the redhead said, pointing at her screen. It was filled with undulating green lines on a black background.

"Uh, that's great, Wil," Buffy said. "Facinating squiggly lines."

Willow rolled her eyes at Buffy's sarcasm.

"This is a carrier signal. I picked it up two weeks ago, and tried to trace it, but then it disappeared. I set my computer to scan for it if it ever came back, and it just did."

"What is it?" Xander asked, peering over Willow's shoulder.

"It's a video feed."

"Where's it coming from?" Dawn asked.

"Hang on a sec," said Willow. She typed on her computer, then picked up her cell phone. The green waves filled the tiny screen. "It's somewhere close. I'm going to follow it."

Buffy handed Connor off to Dawn, and followed Willow outside the house and down the drive. Willow stopped in front of a lawn gnome, leaning against a tree.

"Here," she said.

Buffy picked up the lawn gnome and smashed it onto the sidewalk. Amid the shards of broken pottery was something black and plastic. Buffy picked it up.

"Someone's been spying on me?" She asked, her voice quiet and dangerous. "Someone's been watching my house? My family?" The urge to maim was rising. "Who did this?"

"I think I can find out by hacking into the signal," Willow said. She turned on her heels and marched back into the house. Buffy flipped the gadget to Xander, and followed.

"Aw Buffy you shouldn't have," Xander quipped. "A new toy just for me."

"Picked it out special," Buffy said grimly.

Willow sat back down at her computer and began typing. Dawn hovered, watching as she swayed from side to side in an attempt to lull Connor to sleep. Buffy let her keep him; she had a feeling she wouldn't want a breakable baby in her hands when she found out who had done this. She felt so violated, so _dirty_, to know someone had intruded her special space. This house was a demon-free zone, a place of refuge for her and hers. And someone had been _watching it_.

"Gotcha," Willow said to herself, pressing a final keystroke. Her laptop screen changed from squiggly lines to a black-and-white image of the Magic Box.

"They must have cameras all over the place," she muttered.

"Hey is that Anya?" Dawn asked, watching the vengence demon step into the shop.

"What's she doing with Spike?" asked Xander. "She... oh. Oh."

The room was very quiet as realization dawned on all of them.

* * *

Jonathan and Andrew stared at Warren as he outlined his master plan, his face becoming more animated with every sentence.

"... that plan sucks," Andrew summed up for both of them.

Warren glared at them.

"Why? Are you afraid?"

"You're talking about hurting a baby," Jonathan reminded him. "No way. I'm not doing it."

"It's not a baby," Warren reminded him. "It's a vampire. Besides, what did you think you were getting into when you signed on for this, a knitting circle? We're _super villians_. If we can get that kid, not only can we sell him to the highest bidder, we can get our revenge on the slayer. Remember what she did to your brother, Andrew? Or to your plans, Jonathan?"

"I still don't want to do it," Jonathan said, a whine in his voice.

Andrew shook his head, the motion bringing the monitors back into his view.

"Uh, guys?" he said, interrupting the beginnings of another argument.

Warren swung around.

"What?" he demanded.

Andrew pointed to the monitor labled "Magic Box"

"Did someone change it to channel seven?" he asked tentatively.

The screen showed the main area of the Magic Box. The research table had been stripped of books, and instead was full of... Anya. With Spike on top of her. And they were...

"Woah," said Jonathan.

Warren stared at the screen.

"This is better than porn," he said. "What is this?"

"That's Spike," said Andrew, who had a touch of hero worship directed towards the bleached blond vampire. "The girl is Anya. The ex-demon who works in the shop."

"Isn't she engaged to Xander?" Jonathan asked, his eyes glued on the screen.

"Not any more," Warren said.

* * *

A/N: Before anyone gets mad at me for taking the idea of fast growing vampire babies, let me just say I think it's cannon. I've been thinking about it, and how else would Connor be able to survive Qortoth when he was just a helpless baby? He had to have grown up really fast in order to stay alive in a hell dimension. He may look like other kids, but Connor's the child of vampires, there really isn't any "normal" when we're talking about him.


	7. Chapter 7

It was the strange beeping sound that woke Buffy up. She opened her eyes, blinking against the harsh neon lights. A hand reached for hers.

"Buffy? Honey?"

Buffy jerked, attempting to sit up. She was restrained, tied to the bed with straps. She struggled against them, expecting them to break under her slayer strength, but they remained firm. The pressure on her hand increased.

"Buffy, sweetheart, it's ok. Calm down. It's just me."

Buffy knew that voice as well as she knew her own name; she'd never expected to hear it again.

"Mom?" she whispered.

Joyce smiled, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from Buffy's face.

"Hi honey," she said. "We're so glad you're awake. Your father's just gone for the doctor."

Buffy blinked.

"My father? Mom, where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. You're very sick."

Buffy frowned.

"I don't get sick. Mom, where's Dawn? And Connor, is Willow looking after him?"

Joyce's face fell.

"No, honey. Those people aren't real."

"What do you mean they're not real? Course they're real," Buffy began to struggle against her restraints again. "Mom, help me! I need to go back and protect them. I need to make sure Dawn and Connor are safe."

Joyce had backed up to the wall, tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh Buffy," she said brokenly.

The doctor swept through the door at that moment, followed closely by a person Buffy hadn't seen in years: Hank Summers.

"Daddy?" Buffy whispered.

Hank's face lit up instantly. He rushed to her side and grasped her hand.

"Buffy. You're awake," He turned to the doctor. "She's lucid."

The doctor, a grave man in a white coat with salt and pepper hair, nodded and consulted the clipboard he was carrying.

"This is her first in months," he agreed. He turned to Buffy and smiled.

"How are you feeling, Ms Summers?"

"Where am I?" Buffy asked. "What's going on?"

The doctor nodded.

"It's understandable that you be a little confused. You've been very sick, Buffy. You've been having delusions that you have some sort of destiny to protect the world, that you have super powers."

Buffy recoiled from him. This man knew she was the slayer!

"This is some sort of trick," she said slowly.

The doctor shook his head.

"You've been here for six years, Ms Summers. The delusions started with you sneaking out of your house to prowl graveyards, and descended from there. You've created a whole world for yourself there, a whole new identity as a 'vampire slayer' with a whole cast of friends; even a sister."

There was a noise in the background, persistantly pulling at her consciousness. Buffy tried to ignore it.

"What do you mean I created them? They're real," she turned to her mother. "Mom? Dawnie's real, isn't she? Where is she?"

Joyce shook her head.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. You don't have a sister."

"And Connor. I need to get back to Connor."

"Ah yes," the doctor jumped in. "He's a recent character. A natural outcropping of your desire to grow up and achieve adult rites of passage."

Buffy shook her head, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm not crazy," she whispered. "I'm not." There was that noise again, hovering in the corners of her consciousness, tugging at her.

"Of course you're not, sweetie," Joyce jumped in. "You've just had some... problems. But they're going to get better now."

"You just need to stay here with us, and not go back into your delusions," said Hank.

The noise was getting louder now. It was beginning to sound familiar. Buffy had been woken up by this noise every day for the past six months. It was Connor crying.

"He's crying," she murmured. "I have to get up."

The doctor started forward.

"She's slipping into her delisions again. Nurse, four miligrams of anaprovaline."

Hank and Joyce held each other, with frightened expressions on their faces.

"Don't leave us, baby girl," Hank said.

Buffy looked at them. Would this world be so bad, with her parents both alive and still together? She could stay here, stay with them, not have any of the responsibilities that came with being the slayer. She could be normal.

Connor's cry once again pierced her consciousness, and Buffy's decision was made.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "He needs me. They all do." Then she surrendering herself to the pull of her mind.

* * *

Buffy's eyes shot open. She was in her own bed in her own room at her house in Sunnydale, and Connor was crying. In the early dawn light, she could just make out his form as he struggled against the bars of his crib. Pushing back the covers, Buffy hauled herself out of bed and made her way to his side. Connor was sitting in front of the bars, his face screwed up in protest as he wailed.

"Hey now," Buffy said, scooping him up and cradling him to her. "What's with the wake up call, baby?"

Connor's sobs quieted, and his small hands grasped the fabric of her tank top.

Buffy's mind travelled back to her dream of mental hospitals and doctors in white gowns and... her parents.

"You knew I was in trouble, didn't you?" she said softly to him. "You knew I needed you." She kissed the top of his downy head, and put him back in his crib.

Connor looked straight at her, grasped the bars of his crib, and pulled himself to his feet.

Buffy smiled.

"That's my boy," she said.

* * *

Buffy was beating the demon in front of her to a bloody pulp. She'd forgotten how good it felt to beat the tar out of a baddy – the wordless poetry of a body in motion, the surety of knowing there was one less evil thing lurking on the streets of Sunnydale.

The demon twisted in her grasp, its swiping claw leaving a long jagged cut down Buffy's arm. It bled sluggishly.

"Hey, I liked that skin!" Buffy complained.

She spun around, using her momentum to swing the heavy axe she carried. The demon dodged.

"Who's afraid of the big bad slayer?" the demon taunted.

"Obviously you're new in town," Buffy said. She swung the axe around over her head in a wide arch. The axe cleanly severed the demon's head from its shoulders. Its body stood upright for a moment, then collapsed forward. Buffy jumped out of the way to avoid being pinned under its weight.

"Guess in the heat of things you just lost your head," Buffy quipped, smirking at her handiwork.

A rustle behind her made Buffy pivot around, her axe immediately at the ready.

Emerging from the shadows was a familiar, leather-clad, peroxide-dyed figure.

"Oh," she sad, lowering her weapon. "It's only you."

"I heard you slayin' and came to give you this," Spike said, holding out something to her.

Buffy took it cautiously, examining what was now in her hand. It was a one dollar bill.

"It's so's you can buy yourself some new puns," Spike smirked.

Buffy snorted, but pocketed the dollar.

"That won't buy me very many," she shot back.

Spike grinned.

"We've gotta stop meetin' like this, Slayer,"

"You coming out of the shadows, me all covered in demon gore?" Buffy snarked.

"Somethin' like that," Spike said. He ran a hand over his gelled hair. "Listen, my crypt's just around the corner. You could come over and wash up 'fore you go home, if you want."

Buffy gave an inner sigh.

"Spike… I can't. I said it's over, and it is."

Spike held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Not for that. We could have a cuppa. You know, talk."

"We never _talk_," Buffy reminded him.

"Yeah, well, maybe we should start," said Spike, sticking his hands into his pockets. "A bloke likes conversation now and then."

Buffy sighed, this time aloud. But she couldn't deny the logic of his proposition. She was filthy and exhausted, and if she went home now she would be press-ganged into looking after Connor or doing household duties before she could even catch a quick shower.

"Ok, we can make with the friendly," she conceded. "But no funny stuff, Spike, I mean it." She pointed a finger accusingly at him.

Spike's smirk grew.

"No funny stuff," he agreed.

* * *

Buffy finished washing the last of the demon blood off her arms, and came out into the main crypt area, drying herself off with a towel. Spike was sprawled comfortably on his sofa, two steaming cups on the floor beside him.

"As advertised," he said, handing one of the cups to Buffy. She sat down beside him, cradling the warm cup in her hands.

"You're right," she admitted. "I do feel better now that I'm cleaner. Amazing what a shower can do, isn't it?"

"Amazin' what two people in a shower can do," Spike said, leering at her suggestively.

Buffy sighed.

"I came for tea, remember? Nothing else."

"Come on, luv, you know what you really came here for."

Buffy held her hand out.

"Don't make me kill you, Spike," She warned.

Spike laughed, a low, sensual chuckle.

"I've heard this song before, luv. I've got the sheet music. I've got season's tickets. We've played this duet a hundred times."

In spite of herself, Buffy felt herself grow weaker. When she was with Spike, it was easy to forget everything - how much responsibility she had, how tired she was, how there seemed like no light at the end of the tunnel. She could lose herself in him; he was offering.

He was close now, leaning over her, his hot breath on her cheek. It was so tempting.

Buffy pushed away from him. It was too hard to think when he was this close. Away from his proximity, her reasons for refusing came back to her.

"No, Spike," she said, turning from him. "Not now, not ever."

Spike stepped forward, his hands now in her hair, gently massaging her scalp.

"Why not?" he asked.

Once again, Buffy moved away from him.

"Because," she replied. "It's not fair. I'm using you, Spike."

Spike gave a bark of a laugh.

"I know. I don't care. I'd rather have half of you than none of you at all."

Buffy shook her head.

"No, that's not right. Listen to me, Spike. This isn't just about me and you any more. There's someone else in the equasion now."

Spike's face darkened, the half-light of the crypt highlighting his high, angular cheekbones.

"The brat."

"Yes. Connor. My son."

"Angel's son," Spike corrected.

"_My_ son," Buffy insisted. "I can't do this to him. He deserves a proper father figure. I know Angel can't ever be part of his life, but that doesn't mean I can replace him with a string of deadbeat boyfriends. I'm sorry, Spike, but I need to find a good model for my son. If I'm going to raise him to be a good man, he needs good role models."

"And I just won't do, is that it?" Spike growled, his temper flaring up. "I can babysit the lad, but as soon as I'm shagging his mum I'm not qualified?"

"Spike..." Buffy said.

"No, you listen here. I don't mind being told I'm not good enough for you. I already know that," Spike began to pace angrily in front of her. "But not enough man for the spawn of Angel? That's low, even for you."

Buffy made an angry sound in the back of her throat.

"What do you want me to do, Spike? Introduce you to my son? 'Here, kiddo, this is your father figure. And oh yeah, he's a bloodsucking monster who wants to kill you, except that the nice commandos put a chip in his brain so he can't.'"

"I was never into eating babies," said Spike, turning to face her with a leer. "That was more Angelus's style."

He didn't see the punch coming. It knocked him off balance with its force, but he regained his footing quickly, taking a swing at Buffy.

"You're not all human yourself, luv," he taunted. "And lest you forget that the lad's real parents were both bloodsuckers like me. You want to know a thing or two about Darla? I could tell you more stories than you want to know. Who do you think Angelus learned his best tricks from?"

Buffy swung around, lashing out with a high kick that caught Spike in the stomach. Spike grabbed her foot and twisted, so that Buffy was thrown to the side. With lightening quick reflexes, Spike was on top of her, pinning her down to the cold stone floor of his crypt.

"Ain't this how it always starts," he leered, pressing himself down on her, her arms pinned at her sides.

Buffy struggled.

"Let me go, Spike!"

"You sure that's what you really want?" He asked, his lips hovering inches from hers. "Or is the boy just another one of your excuses? You can't face the fact that you're attracted to me, that you can't stay away. Admit it. You love me."

Buffy attempted to wrench her arms away from his hold, but his full weight on top of her was too strong for her. Fear crept into her beautiful features.

"Spike, get off me. Get off!"

Instead of doing as she asked, Spike lowered his mouth to hers, pulling her into a rough kiss. His fingers found the buttons of her shirt and began to undo them, not much caring if he tugged buttons from holes, or just ripped them off. He pulled away to push the shirt off her shoulder, and was surprised to find wetness on his cheek. Buffy was crying.

"Stop," she said, her voice soft and pleading. "Please stop."

Spike started, and scrambled off her. He backed away, until he was at the opposite end of the crypt from her, his eyes wide with what he had been about to do.

Buffy drew herself into a ball, her eyes tracking his movements. Her hair was discheveled and her clothes torn where his greedy fingers had pawed at them. Makeup ran from her wet eyes and down her pale face in dark streaks.

"Buffy..." he whispered, almost pleadingly.

Buffy stood up, pulling her shirt back over her shoulder and attempting to button it up. She walked towards the door, limping slightly. At the entranceway, she turned to him.

"And you wonder why I could never love you," she said, her voice flat, devoid of all emotion.

Then, she walked out the door, letting it clang hollowly behind her.

* * *

Buffy stumbled home, not even sure where she was going. Her feet knew the way, though, and without even realizing it she was at the door of her own house. It was almost dawn, and the house was quiet. She slipped in without hardly daring to breathe, and made it up the stairs and to the bathroom without anyone seeing.

She was a mess. Her hair and clothes were trashed, her makeup all over the place. Buffy slipped out of her ripped and filthy clothing, leaving it in a pile on the floor as she got straight into the shower. She put the spray as hot as she could stand it, and scrubbed all over until her skin was raw and tingling. She wanted to wash _him_ off. The feel of him against her, his scent on her skin. She felt _dirty_, like there was a layer of mud caking her. Except there wasn't anything that she could see. Just her own skin, getting redder and redder the harder she scrubbed. Her tears mingled with the water streaming over her as she leaned her head on the tile of the bathtub and sobbed.

It wasn't as if he had never touched her before. They had been sleeping together on and off for months now. And it always started like this - her trying to break up with him, them arguing, him grabbing her, the rough sex. But this time had been different. This time she'd said no. And he hadn't cared. Buffy let out a shuddering breath, and picked up the loofa again. She wanted to wash all traces of him off of her.

It was nearly an hour before the hot water ran out and Buffy was forced to get out of the shower. She wrapped herself in a huge fluffy bathtowel and trailed to her bedroom, changing quickly into her softest, fluffiest yummy sushi pajamas. She brushed her dripping hair out, and sat down shakily on the edge of her bed.

Connor had woken up while she was dressing, and was sitting up now, regarding her with wide, curious eyes. grasping the bars of hs crib, he pulled himself up to a standing position, and lifted his arms over his head, indicating that he wanted to be held.

"Oh, baby," Buffy said, tears flooding her eyes again. She rushed to the crib and scooped him up, cradling him to her and kissing him again and again.

"Oh Connor, baby, I'm sorry your mommy is such a basket case," she whispered to him, rocking him back and forth as she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry I can't be stable and normal for you."

She pulled away to see his small face, which was losing its baby roundness in favour of a childish oval. Under his sandy brown hair, dark eyes regarded her curiously. He reached out a chubby hand and touched the tears on her face, feeling their wetness.

"Momma?" he said. "Momma cry?"

Buffy blinked.

"Connor? Baby? Did you just talk?"

"Momma cry?" Connor asked again.

Buffy's mind struggled with the idea of Connor's first words.

"But you're not even one yet. You're not supposed to talk."

Buffy let her eyes take in her son, realizing perhaps for the first time that her baby didn't look like a baby any more. He had grown at an accelerated rate, looking almost like a one and a half year old, even though he hadn't even had his first birthday yet.

Oh boy. The implications of this one were a doozy. Buffy dived for the phone, and practically sprinted to Willow's room.

"Wil? Wake up!"

Willow sat straight up in bed.

"Where's the apocolypse. I'm ready!" she said.

Buffy flipped her the phone.

"Call Wes," she said. "It's important."

Willow, now fully awake, regarded Buffy under hooded eyes.

"What should I say?" she asked.

Buffy held her son close to her chest, feeling calmed by his comforting weight in her arms.

"Tell him it's about Connor."

* * *

Spike stayed huddled in a corner of his crypt for a long time. One by one the candles sputtered and went out, leaving him crouched in the dark. His mind played the incident over and over again. Hadn't this been how all his encounters with Buffy had started? With her telling him it was over, and him taking her roughly against some hard surface? Hadn't that been how it always was with them? What had been different this time?

This time, Spike's brain answered cruelly, this time she had asked him to stop.

And he hadn't. Until it was almost too late.

Buffy was right. He was a monster. She hadn't had the strength to turn him away for herself. But for that kid, for Angel's son that she had taken as her own, for him she had the strength. She was right, he wasn't a fit roll model for a little lad. What kind of lessons would Connor learn from him? How to force himself on a woman?

Spike buried his face in his hands, his shame and horror to great to face the world. He had done a lot of things in his time as a vampire, and most of them the stuff of nightmares. But he had never forced himself on a woman unwilling. That was a line that even he, monster though he was, would not cross. And tonight, with the woman he had claimed to love, he had almost crossed it.

The horror of that thought propelled Spike to his feet. Blindly, without hardly knowing what he was doing, he grabbed his rucksack and shoved a few extra bottles of blood into it. He shrugged on his black duster and hurred from the dark crypt. There were still a few hours of night left, enough to get far away from Sunnydale.

"I'm sorry, luv," he whispered to the empty crypt. "I _will_ be worthy of you. You'll see. I'll make myself worthy of you."


	8. Chapter 8

"You think a night of demon hunting will bring him out of it for a while?" Gunn asked, glancing speculatively at the office, where Angel was pretending to do paperwork.

"It doesn't usually," Fred said leaning on her hand as she bent over her book at the front desk.

"This is sooo dumb," Cordelia snapped, pushing herself off of her chair and stomping out into the foyer. "I didn't turn down being a higher power just to watch Angel sulk."

"Why _did_ you turn down being a higher power?" Wesley asked, from his position polishing a scythe on the lobby steps.

"Can you imagine me all white and glowy? Pfft, no thanks," Cordelia flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Besides, who would See for you if I was gone?"

"We're glad you stayed," Fred said warmly.

Cordelia stole a glance at Angel's office door.

"Yeah, me too."

The phone rang sharply, and Fred picked it up.

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless," she paused. "Oh sure. Wes? It's for you."

Wes gave Fred a small smile as he ambled over and took the receiver from her.

"Hello?"

_"Wesley? Um, hi. It's me. Willow. Obviously." _

"Willow." A finger of dread curled itself around Wesley's heart. If Willow was calling outside of their schedule, something must be wrong. "Having another apocalypse already?" He kept his tone light, for the sake of the others in the room.

_"Just wanted to consult on a demon language,"_ Willow said nervously. _"Maybe I could talk to you, you know, in private." _

"Of course," Wesley said. "Let me call you back." He hung up, and turned on his heel.

"Was that Sunnydale?" Cordelia asked, perking up from her slumped position. "If you quit hogging the phone I could have said hello."

Wesley have her a tight smile.

"Just Willow wanting my expertise on something," he lied smoothly. "She's the defacto scholar of the group now that Giles isn't there."

"Lucky her," Cordelia muttered.

Wesley gave one last, regretful glance at the open office door before making his way up the stairs to his room.

It weighed heavily on him, keeping this secret from the others. Especially when he could feel the burden of Angel's misery. It had been eight months since Connor had gone missing, and Angel's grief seemed to grow with every passing day. Although Angel Investigations had searched every demon hotbed and cult sanctuary, Wes had managed to steer them off the actual trail. The necessity of it lay heavily on his shoulders. He hated to see his best friend in such agony, but Connor was of paramount importance here. Nothing, not Angel's grief or Wes's guilt, was more important than Connor's life.

With a heart burdened with guilt and a small spark of hastily smothered panic, Wesley locked his door and dialed Sunnydale.

_"Wes,"_ Buffy didn't even spare time for a greeting.

"Buffy. What's wrong? Is Connor alright?" Wes asked.

_"I… don't know." _

Buffy seemed on the edge of some sort of panic. Her voice came in sharp gasps.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Wes asked sharply, before forcing himself to calm down. "Tell me what the matter is, and I'll try to help," he said gently.

Buffy breathed heavily down the phone line.

_"It's happening too fast, Wes. What if it's happening too fast?" _

"Buffy. I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."

_"Connor said his first words,"_ the words tumbled out of Buffy's mouth like a dreadful confession. _"He's barely a year. He just started to stand up on his own. How can he be talking yet?"_

"I'm no expert on pediatrics, but that _does_ seem early," Wesley admitted. He frowned, perching on the edge of the dresser. "Do you want me to do some research about it?"

This seemed to calm Buffy down slightly.

_"Can you?"_ She asked, helplessly. "_It's just, what if he grows too fast? What if, in five years, he's a teenager? What if in ten years he's grown up? I can't do that, Wes." _

"I won't know anything till I do some research," Wesley soothed. "But I can't promise any solutions. We don't know anything about Connor. He's utterly unique."

_"I can't do this any more, Wes,"_ Buffy admitted. "_I can't… what if I lose him?"_

Wesley rubbed the back of his head, somewhat bewildered. Buffy hadn't called him in the middle of the night to tell him Connor's growth was accelerating, not really. Something like that could have waited until their scheduled checkup. If she had risked calling the Hyperion to tell him something, surely it was important.

"What's really bothering you?" he hazarded.

_"Nothing…"_ Buffy's voice wavered, tight with emotion. "_I'm just worried about Connor." _

"You can tell me anything, Buffy, you know that," said Wes. "We're allies. Friends. What is it?"

"_It's just… Spike…"_ Buffy's voice was lost in something that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Spike," Wes's voice was clipped.

_"He's never… not until tonight. I told him to stop, but he said this is always how it starts and…" _

"Buffy. Did Spike hurt you? Did he… _touch_ … you?" Wesley's body was suddenly taut with rage. He found himself standing in the middle of the room, stiff with anger.

_"It wasn't supposed to be this way_," Buffy was crying for real now, talking around gulping sobs. _"He was just supposed to… but this time I said no, and it didn't matter… what kind of horrible mother am I?"_

Wesley was shoving his arms through his coat sleeves before he knew what he was doing.

"I'm coming over there," he said tightly.

_"What? No! Why?" _

"I'm going to put a stake through that vampires heart and watch while he turns to ashes."

Wesley felt cold all over, and at the same time alive with energy, like electricity was flowing through him. Waves of protective anger washed through him, making his hands shake with the urge to kill Spike, to see the vampire's dust settle to the ground. He was despicable, to take what Buffy wasn't offering.

_"Wesley,"_ Buffy's voice was soft, calmer_. "You can't come." _

"Tough. I am."

He already had a bag in his hand, was throwing a change of clothes into it.

_"How would you explain it to the others? Can't compromise Connor's safety, just cus I'm feeling bad,"_ Buffy sniffled, then sighed. _"I'm sorry. That all came out at once. I shouldn't have made you deal with this, too." _

"I'm here for you, Buffy," Wesley reminded her. "For you and for Connor. And I'm coming to Sunnydale."

_"Not tonight,"_ Buffy begged. "_Please. I can't… I don't want to talk about it any more. Come next week, like you were planning to. "_

"And Spike?"

_"He's not coming near me again. Not now, not ever_," Buffy said, steel in her voice.

"Talk to Willow," Wesley said, sitting on the edge of his bed, defeated. "You'll feel better if you do. I won't tell you to be careful, because you're the Slayer and I know you can handle yourself. But do try to be careful."

Buffy's watery chuckle was a balm to Wesley's frayed nerves.

_"I will. Thanks for… thanks for listening Wes. I haven't told anyone else, but I know I can trust you." _

Wesley smiled at her admission.

"Try to get some sleep. I will see you and Connor next week. Hopefully then I will have some answers for you, as well."

_"Thanks, Wes,"_ Buffy said again. "_For everything."_

Wesley placed the phone back in its cradle with a sigh. His instincts were screaming at him to rush to Sunnydale, to dust the blond vampire where he stood, but Buffy was right. There would be too many questions if he rushed off in the middle of the night. Besides, Buffy didn't exactly need his protection.

He let out another shaky breath, and pulled out a sheet of paper. If he was going to give Buffy her answers by next week, he was going to need to put his thoughts in order first. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

It was a Saturday, which would have been good in Dawn's opinion, except that it was her turn on baby duty. Dawn gave an exaggerated sigh, and trudged up the stairs. Willow was at the top of them, nervously hovering around Buffy's door.

"She up yet?" Dawn asked.

Willow shook her head.

"Don't think so. Don't hear any movement. She had kind of a rough night last night. Didn't want to talk about it."

Dawn played with the end of her hair.

"How'd everything get so screwed up?" she asked, not expecting Willow to answer.

"I dunno," Willow said, glancing back at her own room, a little flustered. "Things are just… complicated… right now. Maybe you should go back to bed and…"

"Is she awake yet?" Asked a voice from Willow's room.

Tara stepped out, her hair messy above a red bedsheet she had wrapped around her.

Tara. In nothing but a bedsheet. In Willow's room. Dawn couldn't help the smile that bloomed all over her face. She was smiling so hard it hurt.

Tara and Willow exchanged embarrassed looks.

"… Hey," Tara said, awkwardly.

"Ohhh! You two made up! That's, like, the greatest news I've heard all week!"

"… This is my cue to put some clothes on," Tara muttered, her face as red as Willow's hair.

"No!" Dawn exclaimed hastily. "No! You stay. I'm not here. You guys do whatever you want. I'm taking Connor to the park. Right now," A giggle escaped, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle it. "Don't worry about anything!" She gave another squeal of delight, then darted back downstairs, forgetting that had come up in the first place for her jacket.

"I love you guys!" she said happily, dashing into her room for her forgotten jacket. Tara and Willow were still standing, frozen with embarrassment, in the hallway. Dawn gave them one final delighted grin, then hurried downstairs. The faster she got out of the house with the baby, the faster those two could go back to being blissfully un-fighty.

Connor was crawling around happily on the floor of the living room. Dawn snatched him up with a flourish, whirling him around.

"They're back together! They're back together!" she chanted. Connor caught her elated mood and giggled.

"Daw!" he said.

"That's right, sweetie. Auntie Dawnie is going to take you to the park, so that Auntie Willow and Auntie Tara can live happily ever after," Dawn plunked Connor into his stroller, settling her purse against her shoulder. She made sure to slam the door good and hard, so that the two lovers upstairs knew she was gone.

Dawn set off pushing the stroller towards the park, still grinning to herself. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Tara and Willow were in love with each other again. It was the perfect day.

She glanced down at the baby bag that hung off the stroller's handles, and giggled.

"This has to be the only diaper bag that has a stake in one pocket and a dagger in the other," she muttered to herself, pushing the stake further into the picket so it wasn't visible.

Connor babbled happily to himself, catching Dawn's light mood.

"Can you say 'park', Connor? 'Paaarrrrk"?"

"Paaak!" said Connor.

Dawn laughed, feeling like she would float away, she was so light.

"Close enough, kiddo."

They were almost to the park when a voice cut through Dawn's happy bubble of unawareness.

"Hey Summers, who knocked you up?"

Dawn's happy day instantly deflated. Great, just when she was feeling on top of the world, she had to run into Brenden and his goon squad from school. She had managed to avoid most of them every since her mom died, but she had almost been one of the cool kids, once, and they wouldn't let her forget her failure. It had seemed important to her, once, before things like her mom and sister dying had pushed stupid things like that out of her head. She ignored their brash voices, and pushed on.

"I knew you ere gone from school for a while, but I didn't know it was _this_ bad," said a new voice. Dawn's head whipped around. It was Kari, queen bee of what was left of Sunnydale High. Everyone laughed.

"Don't be stupid," Dawn said, annoyed more than hurt. "This is my sister's kid. My _grown up_ sister."

"You mean the sister who dropped out of college and works at the Doublemeat?" Kari asked snidely.

Dawn felt her face burn.

"You know, you really shouldn't talk about things that are way beyond your pay grade."

Everyone swiveled around. Standing outside the group, with his hands loosely in his pockets, was a tall, dark haired man. He looked sort of familiar to Dawn.

Kari sneered at him.

"Excuse me, just who do you think you are?"

The man smiled.

"Just who do you think _you_ are? You're even dumber than you look if you don't know who you're talking to there."

"Sure I do. Trailer Trash Summers."

The man snorted.

"I'd run along if I were you, little girl. There's a whole world right here that you have no idea about."

Kari made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat.

"Whatever. Come on, guys. We don't want to mess with Trailer Trash when she's got her trailer trash boyfriend to stand up for her."

Kari turned on her heel, and the rest of her sheep followed obediently behind.

Dawn turned thankfully to the man.

"Thanks…"

"Warren," he said, smiling at her.

"Thanks, Warren. You really saved me there."

Warren gave her a wide smile. Which, now that she was paying attention, wasn't a very nice smile at all.

"Oh, don't thank me yet."

A sharp blow to the back of Dawn's head caused her to fall to her knees. She lashed her hands out, feeling for the knife in the diaper bag, but hands gripped hers.

"Nuh huh, little girl," said Warren's disembodied voice.

The last sound Dawn heard before her world went black was Connor crying.

* * *

When Buffy came downstairs, it was almost noon. She trailed exhaustedly into the kitchen, running a hand through her tumbled hair. She had managed to get dressed, but that was really all she was up for today. Thankfully her shift at the Doublemeat didn't start until the evening, so she was ok for most of the day.

Tara and Willow were sitting at the breakfast bar, heads bent together conspiratorially.

"Hey guys," Buffy greeted them.

Both jumped at her words, looking guilty and a little embarrassed.

Buffy couldn't hide her grin.

"Hey Tara. Nice to see you here again."

"Nice to be here again," Tara admitted, grabbing hold of Willow's hand. Willow's smile could have lit up the sun.

"Good morning sleepyhead," said Xander from the dining room. "So nice of you to join us."

Buffy opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Guess I slept in," she said.

"Did Wes tell you what you wanted to know last night?" Willow asked.

Buffy nodded, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, he was in full Watcher mode. Said he'd get back to me after he hit the books."

"You called Wes about something?" Tara asked.

"I had a question about Connor, how he's growing so fast. He said his first words last night."

"Oh yeah? What was it?" Tara propped her chin up with her free hand.

"Mommy," said Buffy, smiling in spite of herself.

"I thought maybe it'd be 'demon' or something. Nice to know the kid's got some normal tendencies," Xander joked.

"Yeah, like hating you," Buffy returned.

They were all still laughing when the door burst open. Buffy was in the hallway in a second. Dawn leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. She was dirty, with leaves in her normally meticulous brown hair and tear smudges on her face. There was a nasty cut on her arm.

"Dawnie? What is it?" It took Buffy's brain a moment to catch up with her words. "…. Where's Connor?"

"They took him," she gasped. "Buffy, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop it. They took him."

* * *

"This is not a good idea," Jonathan moaned. "This is so not a good idea."

"Warren, are you sure we need to do this?" Andrew asked, staring at the no-longer moving gym bag. "He's just a baby."

"Shut up, both of you," Warren snapped. "You really don't see it, do you? We need blood to complete the ritual. I'm sick of just talking about power, I want to _have some_. The spell calls for blood. How much better will it be if it's the blood of a child of two vampires? And the Slayer's own kid, to boot. Revenge and power all in one go. It's brilliant!"

Jonathan and Andrew exchanged a glance.

"Look," said Andrew. "It was kind of fun to mess with the Slayer, but killing a baby is too far. I didn't sign up to kill anyone."

"Then what did you sign up for?" Warren demanded. "If not him, then it's you. You want your blood to seal the spell?" He was waving a dagger around, slashing the air with it for emphasis.

Andrew and Jonathan cowered back.

"Get the kid," Warren instructed.

Jonathan's hands trembled as he opened the gym bag. Inside, the baby was still asleep, knocked out cold with whatever Warren had dosed him with to make him shut up. He lifted the baby up into his arms, walking over to Warren.

Warren bent over the spell book, scrutinizing the words.

"Bring him here," he instructed, the knife glinting dully in his hand.

"Ok, wait," Andrew said, intercepting Jonathan. "Hang on a second. I don't want to do this any more."

Warren wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were still fixed on the book.

"Bring the kid, Jonathan," he said, his voice low and hypnotic.

Jonathan trembled as he took another step forward.

"Maybe Warren's right. We've never had real power before," he whispered. "It's not like it's human, anyways."

Andrew tugged at Jonathan's shirt.

"This isn't what Bruce Wayne would do," he whispered.

"Maybe we're not Batman," Jonathan said. "Maybe we're the Joker." He shoved Andrew, hard enough that the other boy stumbled and fell badly. A sickening _crunch_ told him that the ankle he'd fallen on was broken.

Jonathan lay the kid's sleeping body on the table. Andrew could only watch, hypnotized with horror and pain, as Warren raised the knife. He began to chant in Latin.

The blade flashed, and a gash on the boy's arm dripped blood onto the book. The book soaked it up as if it was _drinking _it.

"Give to me the power. It is mine." Warren threw his head back as swirls flew from the book, covering him in an inky green smoke. When it cleared, Warren was different. He snapped his finger, and power sparked from it.

"Cool," he said.

"Is that it?" Jonathan asked, shakily.

"No. That's just the first step. In order for the power to become permanent, we need more blood. We need it all."

Warren turned back to the boy on the table, his knife raised again. Jonathan began to chant.

An explosion of sound and movement broke the mesmerizing silence. The door burst open, and a very angry Slayer stalked in, a knife of her own gleaming in her hand.

"Get away from my son."

It was a blur of movement. One minute Buffy was standing on the opposite end of the room, the next she was throwing punches. Andrew cowered in the corner as the Slayer's friends poured into the room. The two witches, the construction guy, the baby sister, they were all there. The pain whenever Andrew moved was too intense. He tried to stay as still as possible.

It didn't take much to take Jonathan down. One look at an angry Scooby gang and Jonathan dropped all pretense and fled. The red haired witch snatched the kid's body up from the table, cradling it against her.

"Buffy! He's alive!" her voice rang out amidst the chaos.

"Blood magic," the brunette witch muttered. "This is dark, dark magic."

"Dark magic for dark power," Warrant taunted. He and the Slayer circled each other, looking for weaknesses.

"You're lucky my son's alive, Warren. Otherwise you wouldn't be standing here." Buffy's beautiful face was hard as granite and just as warm.

"You always were good at empty threats. What're you going to do, _slay me_?"

"I'm considering it."

Buffy threw the first punch, knocking Warren off balance. But he recovered quickly. The spell gave him strength as well as magic. It flew from his fingertips as he swung at the Slayer.

"Tara! Help me!" the redheaded witch shouted. Power seemed to radiate from both of them, streaming forward and bouncing off Warren's newfound shield.

"Dawn, get the baby out of here," Tara instructed. Despite the strain of constant power flowing out of her, her voice was calm. "Xander, go with her."

Warren and Buffy were throwing punches left and right, but neither seemed to be getting the upper hand. For once, the Slayer was fighting someone that equaled her powers.

Sweat glistened on Warren's forehead as he dodged and kicked and punched. He still wielded the knife he had used in the ceremony, but he wasn't nearly as effectual as Buffy in using it. She lunged forward, and a long gash appeared on Warren's arm.

"You'll pay for that, Slayer," he grit out.

"His shield is weakening," Tara said. "Just a little bit more."

The magic was crackling all over Warren's skin now. He hadn't completed the spell, and now he was using up the magic too fast.

"I'm going to make sure you never come near me and mine again," the Slayer ground out.

"You can try, sweetheart," Warren returned. But his skin was turning an alarming shade of gray.

A shot rang out, its sound amplified by the stone walls of the room. Andrew raised his head enough to see Jonathan at the other door, his hands shaking as he struggled to keep the gun steady.

"You missed," Buffy taunted.

"This has been fun, maybe we'll do it again sometime, Slayer," Warren said. He grinned, a shadow of his former cocky smirk, and disappeared, leaving only inky green smoke in his wake.

"Wil, Tara, can you help me track him down?" Buffy asked.

"I think I…" Willow said. She glanced at the brunette "Tara?"

Tara was looking down at her stomach. Red bloomed through her shirt like a sickly flower.

"Oh," she whispered. Then she crumpled to the ground.


End file.
